Gospel Rap; Parables by Grits
Gospel Rap; Parables by Grits

Gospel Rap; Parables

Grits * Track #13 On Factors of the Seven

Gospel Rap; Parables Lyrics

[HOOK]
When it started we was down by church fallacy
As time went by we took on the appearance of being free
But in reality we're not
We're still trapped in the shallow mentality of Gospel Rap

[VERSE 1]
These are the secrets of life, to some revealed
Remain hidden so that all understand, the truth concealed
So we journey, dropping theories of Christ grammatically
To awaken those who sleep through lyrical caffeination
Bona fide creations bore fruit through verbal knowledge
As the apparatus of seeds on good soil had fallen
But callings of yes y'alling till the beat started to fade
Ascending, approaching death, as the roots reached the pavement
Disciples of Christ's teachings, sick surface blooming in season
But autumn sparks a vacation, influenced by niggers weeded
Duplicated illustrations, took form as gospel gangsters
Exploited and victimised by industry-philes awaiting
Anxiously, I see emcees bear fruit to be collected
Took root underground, as rats funnel through tunnels
Direction emerging, surface submerged within the harvest
Manifested by seeds of another that was invested
Unlike the rest, through the rain and cold we stood the test
First ten and twenty, then a hundred-fold blessed
In this, well pleased, so on the Sabbath day we'll rest
Six days, five seeds, prophesy is manifest

[VERSE 2]
Motivated by what's being illustrated
By those who talk loud thereby bringing distortion
To both my optical and audio senses which are responsible
For the mirage of skill, you still trying to keep real
So I'm here to manipulate or change the course of these events
To guide you toward the demise of your pretense
Therefore my strategic positioning for this offensive attack
Is fueled by your burning desire for being whack
So how you react to this potentially volatile situation
Will conduct the symphony of sympathy you attract
The skies peeled back, I rain down fact on this Grits track
Static, air, hand-clap, whatever, I just rap

[VERSE 3]
You understand the ill-coined phrase, gospel-rapper
But yet you turn heads off like the mechanics of a clapper
Until now it's been a long time coming
Now the sludge resides at the top like Mr. Drummond
Evident to the inner-eye, no longer discreet
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 wondering if they plan to dump me
One side is called mainstream but really I see no difference
Where's the fifty percent ministry, fifty percent business?
Currently it's 10/90 with the latter always trailing
As the cross fades away with the realness of the nailing

[VERSE 4]
Getting Over using Spiritual Parameters to Evolve your Level
In society, that's what GOSPEL means to me
(Rolling down the river) of Christian emcees
Wishing to knock em upside their heads with my oars
Shatter their chords, blood trickles from the pores of the fickle
Lose control from their fans, they being tickled
Hot-steppers get their peppers pickled
My question is this, how do you keep it real when you synthetic
So pathetic, unlively, eating more aid than H-I-V
The way I see things
You doing more harm than help with chameleonic skills
Latching on to flavours of the month for cheap thrills
Arms folded on window sills
Finding oddities you call commodities
You false prodigies, I'm judging
You catching life sentences for your sodomy

[VERSE 5]
I touch a cloud through well endowed imagination
Collaboration with pens sends your DJ on a permanent vacation
See I dabble in word placements
Some kind of scrabble-type shaping
Fragments into stories, resulting in sky-scarping
I be taking lashes from them cats who cannot do the same
Fooling secular psychos with no shame, proclaiming Christ's name
Irregular writer on mics, I maim the mediocre artists
The spots I be in, the so-called hardest Christian rappers be discarded
And it's odd, when I catch their shows, they claim they ain't no joke
But your people mad, project blowed, and they be in the back straight taking notes
Fool, I rock both, my pendulum swings on each arena
I'm elevating Gospel Rap from Nashville to West Covina

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