Deitrick Haddon - The King Of Glory Lyrics

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Deitrick Haddon ft. The Hill City Collective & Stout - The King Of Glory [Official Video]

Meaning & Inspiration

Deitrick Haddon has always operated in the margins of what the church deems “proper.” He’s a bridge-builder, but not the kind that stays in the lanes. In The King of Glory, he reaches back into the communal marrow of Black Gospel—the old “Go Tell It on the Mountain” trope—and strips away the seasonal, snowy imagery to leave only the urgency of a field report.

When he drops the line, “Destroy this temple / In 3 days / He got up / From the grave,” he’s pulling directly from John 2:19. It’s a jarring, visceral shift. In an era where CCM often leans toward the abstract or the ethereal, Haddon insists on the biological reality of the resurrection. He isn’t talking about a feeling or a personal growth arc; he’s talking about a corpse that stopped being a corpse. There’s a grit here that avoids the sanitized, radio-friendly gloss of modern worship. It’s matter-of-fact, almost like a street-corner proclamation.

I’ve been sitting with the line, “He’s undisputed / I hope it’s clear.” It’s a fascinating choice of slang. “Undisputed” feels borrowed from the lexicon of prize fighting—it’s the language of the ring, of heavyweights, of the guy who hasn’t lost a round. It’s a strange word to apply to a deity, yet in the context of the current cultural moment, it lands. We are surrounded by competing truths, competing kings, and competing narratives. Haddon isn’t asking for a seat at the table of ideologies; he’s declaring the table already belongs to the guy who walked out of the grave.

Does the message get lost in the vibe? Maybe a little, but that’s the risk when you prioritize the “jubilee” aspect of the track. When he moves into the “clap your hands / dance with me” section, he shifts the focus from theological meditation to a communal physical response. There’s a danger there—the risk that the beat becomes a distraction from the heavy weight of “every knee shall bow.” But then, maybe that’s the point. If the King is actually on the throne, then the only logical response is a bit of chaotic, unmanaged celebration.

There’s an unfinished quality to the track, a loop-like obsession with the phrase “control control control.” It feels like he’s trying to convince himself, or perhaps the listener, that the chaos of the “valley low” doesn’t negate the reality of the throne. It’s not a tidy resolution. It feels like someone shouting into a storm, repeating a truth until it drowns out the wind. It’s not necessarily comforting, but it is insistent. It leaves me wondering if we use these songs to celebrate a victory we’re sure of, or to steady our nerves because we’re actually terrified of how much control we’ve lost. Either way, Haddon keeps the tension alive, refusing to let the “glory” become just another background aesthetic.