False prophet preacher, you for profit teacher-
It burns me up inside, the Way-the Truth, you hide-
Prosperity nonsense, causing spiritual offence,
Destructive to souls, to build your fat cash rolls.
Bishop’s slants, Benny’s rant’s, no doctrine just romance,
Tripsta France, Wive’s enhanced, pull up your pants.
Spiritual glance, empty expanse, can’t get a stance.
Fancy prance, hypnotic trance, just a happy dance,
Kingdom advance, blessed finance, sounds more like chance.
Little parrots watch your show, off like ferrets they go.
Dropping bits of meaninglessness, empty pellets of how to bless.
Squaking and dropping, something noisy, LOUD… PROUD… PROFANE...
empty--- out of rhythm & rhyme… just to take up some time. To the end, insane.
Who’s dolla? Holla! Who you folla? little g(oh)d, who you really- B? We gonna see.
Fancy fool, it ain’t cool, word ain’t Word, not like I heard, it’s just so absurd.
My your joys abound, jets engines resound, short bits unprofound, bad theologies propound.
Robot, does not compute, not so cute. All business-lady, so astute, nice pants suit, emptyness-impute.
TB-siN is crouch’n @ your door, U don’t look too poor, wife(skipit), hear the lions roar-heard it all before.
Like a circus act, to attract, then distract, it’s all so whacked – just like bizdnus you transact.
(PRAISE SHARE! –> interlude – DUDE-> you’re all in JUDE! – gonna stand nude, before the Judge who knows your brood, and man you’re stewed , no settlement like when you’ve been sued, your financials will be reviewed, nothing to be misconstrued, includes all who collude, all that pop crap self-help eschewed, this ain’t no feud-it’s about a world renewed in God whose gracious giving we should exude— looking for His righteousness in the Gospel pursued, and suffering in this life it surely does include--- but if you’d a read it all you’d a knew’d.)
(like an afterthought)
Joe- well, Oh, your best days were, now—
get your Bible out, read it, then take a bow.
the show's over-HOLY COW!
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