Show Lyrics

Grits - Mirage
(from the album Factors of the 7)

Chorus:
First you see it then you don't (a Mirage)

Hopin' when I get up close, it's a colorful collage

Far off it looks real (a Mirage), hidden till the I disappears.

Bonafied:
Naw girl, chill, it ain't even like that
I know them other brother's frontin' on their motives in fact, I used to be like that a long time ago
Sunday school mack pushin' up on ever sister in tact
At the choir show dipped in silk clothes like a pimp
With gold chains danglin' polo scent stranglin'
A wolf in sheeps clothing in the mold of crooked preachers usin' pick up lines like, "Let me touch and agree wit cha"
On the subject matters in life you found to be your weaknesses ignorance revealed and I used them as my strength
On occasions in my game I'd spit the truth to get closer to you abussin' trust from desires of lust
So watch your back sisters don't be victims fallin' like prey
Caught in traps when Jack the Ripper crosses boundaries you lay
If his display is not the essence that of Christ in your sights
He very well may be seduction your destruction in life (Reverend Pimp Daddy baby)...

Chorus

Coffee:
( Nothing's real anymore, what's everything fake for?
It makes more doubt engulf the stance we chose to take
Slimy, slithering snakes raise the stakes
RRRRRaaaa, time for GRITS to make the ground quake )...

Falsehoods, deceptions, wool pulled over eyes
Dazed and hypnotized by facades and lies
Corruption breedin' hounds of Hell, bounds and spell
Disastrous endings you wolf in sheep's pretending
Offending I find your accolades to be gut wrenching
Ripping me inside due to the lifestyle tried
I'm hittin' on all the flimsy-handed, limp-wristed
Complicatin' life from simplistic not lashin' out to be sadistic
But my Bible totally contradicts your kind of sickness
My Lord destroyed whole cities for your type of wickedness
You people are getting me stressed with your bessed dressed contests
Gainin' noteriety in Christian society
Not fly to me
I know what's goin' on opposite of what you try to be
People are talkin' and what you do reflects on all of us
A hypocrital Citadel is what they callin' all of us.

Chorus