Show Lyrics

Grits - Gospel Rap/Parables
(from the album Factors of the 7)

Chorus:
When it started we was bound by church falicy
As time went by we took on the appearance of being free
But in reality we're not, we're still strapped in the shallow mentality of "Gospel Rap"

Bonafied:
These are the secrets of life to some revealed remianed hidden so that all understand the truth concealed
So we journey droppin' theories of Christ grammatically to awaken those who sleep through lyrical caffination
Bonafied creations bore fruit through verbal knowledge as the apparatus of seeds on good soil had fallen
But callin's of yes ya'llin to the beat started to faze ascending approachin' death as the roots reached the pavement
Disciples of Christ's teachings took surface bloomin' in season but autumn sparked suffocation influenced by nigga's weeded
Duplicated illustrations took form as Gospel Gangstas-exploited and victimized by industry fowls awaitin'
Anxiously I C-MCs bare fruit to be collected
Took root, underground as rats funneled through tunnels
Direction emerging surface submerging within the harvest manifesting by seeds of another that were invested
Unlike the rest through the rain and cold we stood the test
First 10 and 20 then a 100 fold

blessed
In this well pleased so on the sabbath day we'll rest
6 days, 5 seeds, prophesy has manifest.

Theory (LPG):
Motivated by- what's being illustrated by-those who talk loud thereby bringing distortion to my optical and audio senses that are responsible for the mirage of skills you still tryin' to keep real
So I'm here to manip-ulate or change the course of these events to guide you to the demise of your pretense
Therefore, my strategic positioning for this offensive attack is fueled by your burning desire-for being wack
So how you react to this po-ten-tially volatile situation will conduct a symphony of sympathy you attract
I rain down fact on this GRITS track
Static, air, hand clap-whatever, I just rap.

Knowdaverbs:
Do you understand the ill coined phrase "Gospel Rapper"
By it you turn off heads like the mechanics of a clapper
Until now, it's been a long time comin'
Now the sludge resides at the top like Mr. Drummond
Evident to the inner eye, no longer discrete
True motives get uncloaked as words become concrete
And tangible, though the brothers begin acting stranger
Anti-ambassadors of one debuted in a manger
Like orphans to the industry, nobody wants me, passed around by foster labels wonderin' if they plan to dump me
One side is called mainstream, but really I see no difference, where's the 50% ministry-50% business
Currently it's 10/90 with the latter always trailing as the cross fades away with the realness of the nailing.

Coffee:
Getting over using spiritual parameters to evolve your level in society-that's what Gospel means to me
Rollin' down the river of Christian MCs wishin' to knock em up side their heads with my ores shatter their cores
Blood trickles from the pores of the fickel-lose control from their fancy being tickled
High-steppers get their peppers pickled
My question is this: How do you keep it real when you're synthetic, so pathetic
Unlively needin' more aid than H.I.V.
The way I see things you're doing more harm than good with chameleonic skills
Latchin' on to flavors of the month for cheap thrills arms folded on window sills
Finding oddities you call commodities you false prodigies
I'm judgin'-you catchin' life sentences for you sodomy.

Jurny (LPG):
I clutch a cloud through well endowed imagination
Collaboration with pen sends your DJ on a permanent vacation
See, I dabble in word placement some kind of scrabble-type shappin'
Fragments into stories resultin' in sky scrappin'
I be takin' lashes from them cats who cannot do the same
Ruling secular cyphers with no shame proclaimin' Christ's name
Irregular writer on mics I mame the mediocre artist
The spots I be in the so-called hardest Christian rappers be discarded
And it's odd, when I catch they shows, they claim they ain't no joke
But you peep 'em at Project Blowed and they be in the back straight takin' notes
Fool I rock both, my pendulum swings on each arena
I'm elevatin' Gospel Rap from Nashville to West Covina.

Chorus