Lose Yourself (Missionary Remix)
Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
For 18 months to 2 years it’s your life’s gratuity
To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment
By serving a mission
Would you capture it or just let it slip and only marry a 7?
Yo
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, backpack is heavy
There’s vomit on his nametag already (Sister Young’s funeral potatoes were heavy)
He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop BoMs
But he keeps on forgetting
What he memorized, the whole family sees the fear in his eyes
He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come out
He’s choking now, everybody’s sending their kids to tell him “Nobody’s around”
The clock’s run out, time’s up, over, it’s lunchtime
Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity
First contact invite to dunk was a fallacy
Oh, there goes Elder Babbitt he choked
He’s so mad, but he won’t give up that
Easy, no
He won’t have it, he knows his door approach isn’t dope
It don’t matter, his hope’s
In the Spirit he knows that he’s stoked
But so stagnant, he knows
When he goes back to his flat, that’s when it’s
Back to the lab again, yo
This whole rhapsody
Read pray work harder
You know, that same old alchemy
He better go capture this moment and hope it don’t pass him
[Hook:]
You better lose yourself in the work and the glory
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to hoe
The field is white for the harvest only one more door to go
Yo
You better lose yourself in the work and the glory
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to hoe
The field is white for the harvest only one more door to go
There are souls escaping, devil’s mouth is gaping
Thirty baps a month are mine for the taking
Make me A.P. as we move toward a new mission order
College life is boring, but mission superstardom’s close to post mortem
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
Salvation-exaltation of all souls it won’t be long
Everywhere he goes, he’s known as Dunk Kong
Lonely roads, Comps only know
He’s grown farther from home, he’s no trainer
Every time he gets a greenie, who knocks? A no-brainer
But hold your nose new convert ’cause here comes the cold water
His comps don’t want him no more, he’s baggy product
They moved on to the next schmoe,
A much smaller halo
He nose dove, converted nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds
I suppose it’s the same old but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da
[Hook]
No more games, I’ma change what you call Tracting Rampage
Tear this fetching roof off like two elders caged
I was playing in the beginning, then my attitude changed
I’ve been chewed up and spit out for not even close to minimum wage
But I kept preachin’ right on into next Zone meetin’
Best believe I rattled off PMG without peekin’
All the pain inside amplified by the fact
That I can’t get by just knockin’ doors 10-9
And I can’t provide the right type of spiritual life for my converts
Cause man, these gosh darn pass-along cards don’t do nuthin’ but advert
And it’s no Other Side of Heaven or God’s Army, this is my life
And these times are so hard, and it’s getting even harder
Trying to feed and water my seeds plus
Teeter totter caught up between being a servant of God and a prima donna
DL, ZL drama
Too much for me to wanna
Make another covenant when it is irrelevant
It’s gotten me to the point, I’m like a dissident
I’ve got to formulate a plan or I end up a mission office accoutrement
Success is my only mother fetching option, failure’s not
Prez I love you, but transfers comin’ say it’s my time to go
I’ve tracted out everything but the parking lot
So here I go it’s my shot
Doc Martins fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got
[Hook]
By Common Consent, a Mormon Blog 
“Tear this fetching roof off like two elders caged.”
THIS IS BRILLIANT. I mean, the whole thing is, but that part especially made me guffaw.
Awesome!
Way to go. My favorite Eminem song, and this re-mix ain’t half bad.