P.O.T.T. - NICHE

Niche it's a synch when you on the bench and coach calls you what befalls
The balls on you that calls on you to shoot loud crowd is mute they want you to shoot
You release it in the air everybody stares out your seat no ones in their chair
Clean shot all strings fat lady sings in seconds it brings sweet victory dreams deemed blissful

Bitter defeat tearful another team's dream dashed you on the winning side of clash
You hated when you on the bench waited you waited, and you waited
Your turn hate faded you stated right time was slated
Now you elated spade it aced it with grace and favor on top

Why snitch dry snitch repent reason avoid the killer switch into the God made niche void filler
Unsung soul saver grant you favor that's better than life place ah grace
Why snitch dry snitch repent reason avoid the killer switch into the God made niche void filler
Unsung soul saver grant you favor that's better than life place ah grace

You deserved dessert of defeating your opponent through divine appointment and anointment
In the lent season repent reason switch into the God made niche he is invited into the void by you
You tried to avoid most of your life stiff still strife life strife shredded by sterile perils of life
Stumbling crumbling humbling turn of events prevents decent to decline

But incline climb cleverly leveling up upper overall overhaul covert worked don't quench
That flinch read a psalm calm your qualms sweaty palmsLet the Balm of Gilead
Into you head space while your thoughts race wisdom and grace to place peace mercy
Like Hershey kiss hasty tasty don't miss trace track no lack no slack

Instead we got new treads over the enemy's head

Why snitch dry snitch repent reason avoid the killer switch into the God made niche void filler
Unsung soul saver grant you favor that's better than life place ah grace
Why snitch dry snitch repent reason avoid the killer switch into the God made niche void filler
Unsung soul saver grant you favor that's better than life place ah grace

Hasatan's foot soldiers snagged and snared by their own traps straps wraps foiled spoiled
Stomped the luciferins loyal in soil scamping em gimme the Holy Ghost Glock knocking
Batteries out their clocks Killing time drilling rhymes I'm a wonder like a pantomime on my grind find the blind mind
Missing that spiritual piece lacking peace running from pain still chain bound
May separate for minutes only to find that you found the chain is still around
Reconsider he want to deliver, who, the Christ Lord, a.k.a. I am that I am

Written by:
EUGENE GREEN

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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