Make Room (remix) Lyrics By Grits

Artist/Band Name: Grits

Album Name:


Lyrics To Make Room (remix)

That’s when you know a group is hip; is when your parents say; what is it with the hippy; the hip, hip hippy glows; and you can’t understand a word they’re sayin’. Back on up, back on up, aw yeah, back on up; back on up, back on up, aw yeah, back on up; back on up, back on up, aw yeah, back on up; back on up, back on up, aw yeah, back on up; aw yeah, back on up.

[Chorus: Ma-ma-ma-make room (room); cause we ‘bout to start swelling; catch an attitude, dude; get buck, sweat it up; oo, really lose cool; it’s what we been commissioned to do; so back on up and give me room; we gotta keep makin’ moves].

My long range aim is dedicated to change; persist to twist brains with rhymes only God can explain; attain divine intervention if your attentions arrested; imprisoned and in position to listen to lessons given; gotta make moves steadily heavily bruising these dudes; who got the gift but abuse tools, misleading these youths; see my birthright is light in the darkness of night; to lead the lost paying the price of sacrificin’ my life; I’ve been sittin’ and contemplatin’, waitin’ anxiously peeking; perception of these releases embracing the deeper reasons; of timing and perfect season believing this thing is bigger; than faces and sound-scan reachin’ for the completion; of purpose in promised land watchin’ behind the curtain; for certain the game is hurtin’, looking for some solution; searchin’ for revolution like music is the conclusion; refusin’ to look at life, and livin’ for forward movement.

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[Chorus] (x 2).

Move (cowards); move (all you cowards back, back), move; Move (cowards); move (all you cowards back, back), move; Move (cowards); move (all you cowards back, back; he scared, she scared, and if you scared, then move).

Oh God, don’t let me act up, I feel a fit comin’ on; my conniption’s my conviction’s reactions to what’s goin on; my rebuttal’s far from subtle, take you there just like a shuttle; gather round the huddle, embrace the pace I spit, at give it a kiss and cuddle; (boy what’s that there you sayin’); I’m tight like the shorts that men look gay in; (aw lawdy you don’ said too much); my slightest touch is a cobra clutch; let it be known we are the epitome of strange and bizarre; switchin’ up and change our repertoire, come discover who we are; wreaking havoc on Satan’s mavericks, through a labyrinth filled with nooks and crannies (an elite group called the factors); we like the x-men so uncanny; imagine looking up seein’ the plastered ceilin’ crackin’; it ain’t because we broke, we lost our minds, for God provoked, a crazy actin.

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[Chorus] (x 4). The beat is so crazy.

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