The Grits (featuring 8-Off) (Album Version) feat. 8-OFF

歌詞

(feat. 8-Off) Intro: Cappadonna This album right here This is the Yin and the Yang So you gonna hear a lot of different things on it You gonna hear a lot of profanity You might hear a lot of um... A lot of love A lot of hate You know what I'm saying? Cus it's like come on I got enemies I got frienemies And those that pretend to be's HOMOCIDE HILLS! That's the grits THE GRITS! The barracks baby word up Verrazano bridge yo yo (Verse 1: Cappadonna) I give a speech like Martin Luther King Let freedom ring Forget a bow ring It's a black thing Holding me locked up With brothers be getting oxed up Taking life for granted Most of us abandon How I know you not a cruel Beef in the home Africans With jet black Americans Dominicans war with the Puerto Ricans Deep in the street Thugs carrying heat The rest of the projects surrounded with gates Middle class families are moving upstate While the younger generation selling cake Trying to immitate mixtapes It's all final Big locks on the Verrazano Get fined BB conduct On some King Tut Poverty struck I seen the right to enter Uhaah took My cup runneth over Stressed out whenever I'm sober This cold world got my girl scan Fight on the sand I'm allergic to ham Weak minds all aboard I see devils in the eyes of camcord' And my reward is to let y'all know I'm going out like PLO Whenever I go uhh THE GRITS! THE GRITS! (Verse 2: 8-Off) I start the slaughtering Make all eyes start watering I know an 800 number you can get your coffin Start ordering The metamorphosis of my skill is sure to bring overcome any king Faking ain't counterfeit Money in the bing I do a sting with two 9's under my sling Anybody you bring Still won't do a god damn thing You nothing but a... Onion in the rain I floss rhymes I loss rhymes I got it like that Y'all bitch niggas I toss times I got rhymes that'll still rock you Cats that'll spot you Told you I chill Lay off a shit I still shot you The only thing I'm unable to do Is do what I got to Look in hospital Brooklyn apostle Lyrical gospel Still fortunate to scorch your shit Paying for the cost of it Your whole style remains wack I know It's awful kid THE GRITS! THE GRITS! THE GRITS! THE GRITS! (Verse 3: Cappadonna) I play the back like back in the days Give thanks and praise Watch the frisk raise Reunite Take birth trees to upright I forget a fake MC's My songs the Bible Survival in the man The lost lands No radio play The Pillage is banned Like a foreigner don't understand Y'all some flan cats eat pig Reneg real shit from digs Hit you off with the packages and facts on tracks Y'all talk but that's put that back We dealing in the orphanage Way surpass your image I'm a chemist A dual dentist Treat my heritage like friendship I be exit I rock a gold necklace And restless It's always hectic Staten Island shit Bad habit shit Made me twist it One twenty disctrict shit Pillage be the senate Throw darts like Masons Garment Rennaissance Patrionts Hold the blood like tampons Baby conduct Put your fist up No more struggles 100 dollars for the hen' dog 200 for the bubbles Less troubles Pill-Age Plus some can turn rappers of off the stage This beef will never we engage Buck buck buck buck buck THE GRITS! THE GRITS! THE GRITS! THE GRITS! THE GRITS! (Outro/Intro to 'Super Model': Cappadonna) If you fucked my little ho Yo, let me know that then(Exactly) Let me know cus I definately let niggas know when I was banging they ho up I was like yeah yeah You thought she was in love with you and I tried to tell you that She wasn't in love with you and I blazed her Then I called you The next day and let you know And you gonna be like 'Yo, let me get my bracelet back'