They say faith ain’t enough, they say, “Show me your grind,” But I’m sealed by the Spirit, He renewed my mind. You work for a wage, I rest in the find, I’m justified once — that’s the faith signed. You talk flames like it’s hell’s decree, But my faith burns brighter, it’s heaven in me. You quote James wrong, try to charge a fee, But faith births works — not the other degree. Yo, I’m not saved ‘cause I flex my deeds, I’m saved ‘cause He met my deepest needs. I’m not loved for my holy creeds, I’m loved ‘cause the cross bled, breaks and pleads. Faith alone — that’s the spark ignited, Grace through Christ — forever united. You still tryna work like God’s short-sighted, But His mercy’s loud, it’s undivided. Religion got receipts — I got receipts too, An empty tomb, that’s proof that’s true. You brag obedience, but what’s that due? Without belief — you’re just residue. It’s faith that speaks when the works go silent, It’s trust that breaks when your will’s defiant. Grace ain’t earned — it’s self-reliant, Faith is the flame — law can’t defy it. You can stack your prayers, quote your creed, But without trust, that’s dust and weed. You can give your tithe, but miss the seed, It’s not the deed — it’s who you heed. Abraham believed, that’s where it began, Not by effort, not by man. Before the knife, before the plan, He was righteous — by faith he ran. You can’t outwork the blood, it’s done, You can’t outshine the risen Son. Faith alone, that’s the only one, That makes death bow and darkness shun. I don’t hustle for heaven, I walk by light, Faith be the flame that burns through night. No tally sheets, no holy height, Just trust that His Word made wrongs right. You say “faith without works is dead”? Yeah — but faith’s what makes works fed. Grace the soil, and love the thread, Fruit grows when roots are led. See, it’s order — not confusion’s tone, Faith is the life — works are shown. Not earned, not loaned, not self-owned, Faith stands tall — throne of stone. The Pharisees tried to buy their seat, Boasting law, not love, in the street. But faith’s what made the blind man see, And grace what let the beggar eat. Faith don’t flex — it humbly kneels, It trusts through pain, through scars, through seals. It ain’t the show, it’s how it feels, It’s God’s own Spirit at the wheel. You can’t fake that, can’t duplicate, Religion imitate, but don’t create. You can’t sell what’s Heaven’s state, Faith’s the door — not the gate. You say, “Faith ain’t proof?” — the tomb says “check,” The stone rolled back, no chain, no neck. He said “Believe” — you said “Collect,” But grace said “Rest” — now I reflect. They hate that faith don’t need applause, That it don’t bend to human laws. They hate it’s trust — not works — that draws, That heaven moves through mercy’s cause. So I’ll stand bold, no pride disguise, Faith in Christ — my only prize. The world calls fake — religion cries, But grace ignites where faith applies. And when the final day calls our name, The judge won’t ask for your moral game. He’ll say, “Did you trust the slain?” — ‘Cause faith alone still fans the flame. Not by might, not by fame, Not by rituals, robes, or claim. By faith alone — the Gospel’s aim, And grace forever bears His name.
