push it to the back of the church Like fig trees or figures they don't bear fruit They gospel artists, still tryin' to chase that loot Hear the truth
This what you call hardcore, fat gospel, street gospel (South, South, Bronx!) Yo where my people at? (South, South, Bronx!) Yo where my heart is at? (
This what you call hardcore, fat gospel street gospel South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South
stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on. CHORUS: Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth
be bitten so stop it Type shit that can't be re-written on copy By Kinko, Kodak, Fuji films Kin-folk know that groovy hymns Spit by him'll put the gospel
take off them silly chains, put back on your wire I'm on fire, holly dipped in octane Let each coast bang, let west coast bang And Rule gonna bring the ghetto gospel
gold Gonna save a bitch's soul From goin' down Satan's hot way She can, I know she can I know she can, she's my Sister Anne Such truth, such beauty
My oh my, it wasn't so bad When we had that to loosen our minds Hey, little baby, in the front row be kind (Bar bitching) Telling you the gospel truth
morning Now I'm smiling, and I'm kissing All my worries goodbye Got the feeling, if I spread my wings I might even fly You are my truth, my way Give
don't do anyone a bit of good They just get started, funny you never know The first-amendment vigilante attitude The gospel truth according to the
Today, I heard the awful news Someone told the gospel truth Said, you've been runnin' 'round With a stranger who just hit town He's got a black mustache
all Old Hamlet's done now, dead and gone And there's no ghost who walks Poor [Incomprehensible] tells you everything he knows With no tongue to talk It seems the truth
beautiful silhouette When a dress lends to stretch Light can make the paper thin It's so tight that it might Just be painted on your skin Gospel fiction
Beatitude, this is the gospel truth This is the beatitude, this is the gospel truth This is the beatitude, this is the gospel truth This is the beatitude
Smashing the human horde, crushing religious filth Nailing invertedly the ones who plant the seeds of doubt Wasting inherent truth, confronting an inner
I've got no where to go stay closer, stay closer and if the walls got to shakin' say it like you mean it presented as a minestry of truth the gospel
Without inspiration I've got nowhere to go Stay closer, stay closer And if the walls stop shaking say it like you mean it Presented as the ministry of truth A gospel
Consider this your fair warning There's no turning back now You're leaving your Blanket of cleansed gospel For the smut of vicious truth You won't need