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[Intro] |
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That's when you know a group is hip |
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Is when your parents say |
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What is it with the hippy, hip, hip, hippy glows? |
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And you can't understand a word they are sayin' |
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Back on up, back on up, oh yeah, back on up |
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Back on up, back on up, oh yeah, back on up |
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Back on up, back on up, oh yeah, back on up |
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Back on up, back on up, oh yeah, back on up |
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Oh yeah, back on up |
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[Chorus] |
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Make room, 'cause we about to start swelling |
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Catching attitude, get buck sweat it up |
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And really lose cool, its what we been commissioned to do |
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So back on up and give me room, we gotta keep makin' moves |
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[Grits] |
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My long range aim is dedicated to change |
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Persist to twist brains with rhymes, only God can explain |
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Attain divine intervention if your attentions arrested |
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Imprisoned and in position to listen to lessons given |
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[Grits] |
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Gotta make moves steadily, heavily bruising these dudes |
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We got the gift, but abuse tools misleading these youths see |
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My birthright is light in the darkness of night |
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To lead the lost paying the price of sacrificing my life |
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[Grits] |
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I've been sittin' and contemplating waiting anxiously peeking |
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Perception of these releases embracing the deeper reasons |
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Of timing and perfect season believing this thing is bigger |
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Than faces and sound scan reaching for the completion |
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[Grits] |
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Of purpose in promised land watchin' behind the curtain |
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For certain the game is hurtin' looking for some solution |
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Searchin' for revolution like music is the conclusion |
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Refusing to look at life a livion for forward movement |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Bridge] |
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Move cowards, move all you cowards move |
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Move cowards, move all you cowards move |
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Move cowards, move all you cowards move |
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He scared, she scared and if you scared then move |
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[Grits] |
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Oh God, don't let me act up I feel a fit comin' on |
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My conniption's, my conviction's reaction to what's goin' on |
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My rebuttal's far from subtle, take you there just like a shuttle |
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Gather round the huddle embrace the pace |
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I spit at give it a kiss and cuddle |
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[Grits] |
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Boy what's that there you sayin'? |
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I'm tight like the shorts that men look gay in |
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Oh Lordy, you don' said too much |
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My slightest touch is a cobra clutch |
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[Grits] |
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Let it be known, we are the epitomy of strange and bizarre |
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Swichin' up and change our repertoire, come discover who we are |
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Wreaking havoc on Satan's mavericks through a labyrinth |
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filled with Nooks and crannies, an elite group called the factors |
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[Grits] |
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We like the X-Men so uncanny, imagine looking |
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Up seeing the plastered ceiling cracking, it ain't because |
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We broke, we lost our minds for God provoked and crazy actin' |
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[Chorus x4] |
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[Outro] |
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The beat is so crazy |
