Lecrae is easily the most successful Christian hip-hop artist of all time. The Houston-born and bred emcee, to date, has eleven albums under his belt, two of which have earned him gold plaques to go along with his handful of gold and platinum singles. In 2013, he became the only hip-hop artist to win a Grammy for Best Gospel Album, and years later, he would add another four Grammys to his collection. You can often catch him breaking bread with Sway on Sway In The Morning or choppin’ it up with Charlamagne Tha God and DJ Envy on The Breakfast Club (he even earned a mention on Kendrick Lamar’s latest record, “Watch The Party Die”). His success and notoriety are pretty impressive, and at this point, I’d say it’s fair to put him in the same category as Kirk Franklin. But if it wasn’t for the subject of today’s post, Lecrae’s career may have never taken off.

You can trace Christian hip-hop’s roots back to the early eighties. MC Sweet released the subgenre’s first single with a record called “Jesus Christ (The Gospel Beat)” in 1982, and in1986, Stephen Wiley released the first full-length Christian hip-hop album, called Bible Break (legend has it that Wiley is also the hand that wrote Kurtis Blow’s 1984 hit single “Basketball,” though his name is not listed in the record’s credits, so believe what you chose to). The late eighties and early nineties saw groups like SFC, T-Bone, Gospel Gangstaz, Dynamic Twins, and Tunnel Rats continue to grow the movement. The movement continued to build momentum into the late nineties, thanks partially to a Philadelphia-based collective known as The Cross Movement. The crew was composed of The Ambassador, Phanatik, Enoch (rip), True Life, Cruz Cordero, and the duo, The Gift (the emcee, The Tonic, and the DJ/producer, Earthquake). They were individual artists but joined forces to create their own label, Cross Movement Records, which would later put Lecrae’s first two albums out. The label’s inaugural release would be the group’s debut album, Heaven’s Mentality.

On the back of the CD booklet, it reads: Heaven’s Mentality advertises and promotes the person and program of the forgotten God (at the bottom of that page, it lists the full Cross Movement roster, which includes someone going by the alias of Prodigy. He must have fallen by the wayside shortly after Heaven’s Mentality was released because I’ve never heard him rap on a Cross Movement record or seen his name on a production credit). The album mainly hones in on The Ambassador, The Gift, and Phanatik, with production coming from The Ambassador, Earthquake, and True Life.

It’s been a minute since I listened to this album. So, without further ado, let’s get into the mentality of heaven, or at least what The Cross Movement perceived its mentality to be.

Blood Spilla’ – The album begins with a little jazzy elevator music and the de facto leader of the team, The Ambassador, eloquently telling the listeners who the Cross Movement is and what their mission is. Then a bass line loop, stuck somewhere between twangy and weary, comes in over a drowsy drum beat, all courtesy of The Ambassador. He uses his production to boast about the sovereignty of the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and challenges those who don’t believe that Jesus is the son of God, aka the Blood Spilla’, to prove him wrong and have their God show his face: “Did is blood leak? Does your God love me? Will he still propose even though I get ugly? Can he turn trouble to ease? Can his love make me weak in the knees like SWV? If he can take the sins of the whole world, swallow ‘em, experience death, then resurrect, then I’ll follow him, but if he can’t, then I’m staying with my champ.” The instrumental is cool, though severely in need of a better mix, but there’s no denying that The Ambassador can really rap.

Test It – The Ambassador is joined by The Tonic and Phanatik as the trio proudly asks all to put their spiritual beliefs on the table for truth testing: “If it’s blessed, then come manifest it, bring it down, let’s test it.” All three emcees articulate themselves well and spit sound bars, but only time (or death?) will prove whose theory is right or wrong. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the jazzy horn loop and the ill organ sample in the instrumental.

Father Forgive Them – The premise of this record comes from the book of Luke Chapter 23:34, where Jesus is being crucified and cries out, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do,” which is also part of the song’s hook. The Ambassador and Phanatik take turns discussing those who deny Jesus and willingly continue to live in sin despite his sacrificial work on the cross: “But once again the sons of men have formed a pact, another culture without God is on the map, Lord, I apologize for all the guys, who go one way when you clearly say otherwise, Father forgive them for they don’t know your plan, who can stop your motion or even slow your plan?” The duo’s content sounds a little self-righteous, but not enough to make me abandon the song altogether.” The Ambassador soundtracks the saga with somber chords that will move and reinforce the belief of believers and possibly change the hearts of those who don’t.

Who’s Da Man – Even Christian rappers forget to use proper punctuation in their song titles. For his first solo joint of the night, Phanatik uses Earthquake’s triumphant-sounding backdrop to speak on God’s omnipotence and unyielding supremacy. When I first heard this album decades ago, I wasn’t sold on Phanatik, mainly because I felt his voice was too meek and monotone. But the more I listened, the more I looked past his voice and started appreciating how sharp he was lyrically, along with the neatness of his bars and the sage-like quality he delivered them with. With all that said, this is one of my least favorite records on the album. The awkward drums sound weird paired with the string loop, and Phanatik sounds like he’s chasing the beat, always a step behind it.

Catch 22 – The Gift gets their first solo record on Heaven’s Mentality with this one, and boy, it’s a doozy. Earthquake sets the dark tone with a raw backdrop lined with dusty drums, a fuzzy, disgruntled bassline, and a spooky female vocal sample. The first three verses are powerfully gripping, as The Tonic raps from the perspective of a young boy, born a crack baby, who ends up getting molested by his stepfather. Oh, did I mention his stepfather’s a preacher? All of his trauma leads the young man to attempt suicide. Apparently, he survives the attempt, as The Tonic uses the final verse to preach at him instead of offering up practical remedies (like a mixture of prayer and therapy) to deal with his trauma.

Heaven’s Mentality – The Ambassador takes care of the title track by himself. It begins with him sharing a few words about Christ and the Bible. Then energized drums, a sick vibraphone loop, and boisterous string chords drop as The Ambassador discusses adapting God’s point of view on all things. It left me with questions, but it still makes for a solid record. Before the next track begins, a short interlude plays of The Ambassador and The Tonic witnessing on the streets to let the listeners know they’re for real about this Jesus thing. Weird flex, but whatever.

Dust – “All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again” (Ecclesiastes 3:20). The previous scripture pretty much sums up Phanatik’s content on his second dolo joint. What a humbling perspective to have. And Earthquake’s lo-fi boom-bap has a rawness that captures the essence of Phanatik’s bars.

Shock! – It’s The Gift’s turn again. Earthquake maestro’s the affair with a beautifully cold piano loop placed over staticky drums. The Tonic gets a little fire and brimstoney as he talks about the shock some will experience after they die: “Cause contraire to care, God won’t be mocked, so in your Glock lingo, the hammer is cocked, if the armored Christ vest, breastplate ain’t there to block, prepare for the drama that comes with the…uuh!” Are you prepared?

Lower Case Gods – The Ambassador’s final solo record has a lot of the same energy and content as the title track. The horn loops laced throughout the instrumental are crazy, though.

El Elyon – After a short poetic mini-sermon from The Ambassador, Phanatik uses his last dolo joint of the night to create a grimy hip-hop praise and worship record (El Elyon is a Hebrew term for “God Most High”). This was dope.

Solo Christo – This is The Gift’s third and final solo record of the evening, well, kind of. The Ambassador pops up to get off half a verse, but other than that, it’s The Tonic rhyming about the only hero you need in this life. I bet you can’t figure out who he’s talking about. Earthquake comes through in the clutch again, with a smooth backdrop suitable to throw on when you have a little driving to do. Nice record.

Cypha’ Time – If you’re a Cross Movement fan, then you already know that each of Cross Movement’s five albums has a “Cypha” record, where they invite the extended crew to join in on the lyrical fellowship. This time, Enoch, True Life, and Cruz Cordero join The Ambassador, The Tonic, and Phanatik as they get their “Christian Wu-Tang” on for this holy cipher session. Each man holds their own over Earthquake’s rugged instrumental.

The Love Letter (Bonus Track) – Heaven’s Mentality ends with a soothing piano loop over flat drums as The Ambassador, Phanatik, and The Tonic take turns reading a letter they collectively wrote to God to thank him for all his grace, lovingkindness, and tender mercy. This record did nothing for me, but I did enjoy the chilled piano chords.

If you harken back to my write-up of LPG’s The Earth Worm, during my closing thoughts, I mentioned that when it comes to Christian rap, there are two kinds of emcees. There are emcees like LPG, who are rappers who happen to be Christian, and then there are emcees like The Cross Movement: Christian rappers, period.

On Heaven’s Mentality, The Cross Movement has one goal: To uplift the name of Jesus Christ and make believers of all men. You won’t hear them brag about their worldly possessions or boast about their lyrical prowess. There are no raps about baggin’ ladies or claiming to own some imaginary crown. The only bragging or boasting you’ll hear them do is about Jesus and the crown of thorns he wore during his crucifixion. The Ambassador, The Tonic, and Phanatik do a quality job presenting biblical scripture and theology through a hip-hop lens, backed by entertaining instrumentals that give the album a consistently raw feel. Now, allow me to double back to the LPG comparison for a moment.

Emcees who happen to be Christian tend to be more well-rounded artists than Christian emcees. Artists like Tunnel Rats, Sup The Chemist, and Pigeon John proudly professed their faith on wax but were also willing to get vulnerable and discuss their joys, pains, and struggles, which humanized them, making them and their message more relatable to the listener. That’s not The Cross Movement’s forte. On “Catch 22,” The Tonic does venture into vulnerable territory when he paints the picture from the perspective of a tormented young man who attempts suicide. But other than that moment, he, The Ambassador, and Phanatik never leave the pulpit on Heaven’s Mentality. They keep their personal shields up, sounding like theological robots in clergy collars without hearts or empathy for mankind.

It’s hard to believe it’s been almost thirty years since Heaven’s Mentality came out, but it’s aged fairly well. The beats still bang, and the bars, even though they come with a heavy dosage of self-righteousness, have maintained their potency. Heaven’s Mentality is a great listen for those already a part of the body of Christ or people just interested in biblical scripture. Yet, their holy-than-thou persona and arm’s length disposition might not make for the best witnessing tool to the non-believer.

-Deedub

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