Dem Grits (Street)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: The Bad Seed] Yo, my frame has the stained paint from the freight train Maintain, my name hold weight like a jaw weight gain You know it's on when I go insane, pump flame, and take aim (The Bad Seed, y'all) Yo, that's the same as the shit that ain't changed Peace to rap niggas, DJs, and kids who paint trains B-boys and b-girls, peace. We're in the same game Drama? I'm in it strong. Beef? Let's get it on Ain't enough cliques on the clock to drop the cats I shitted on Think I'm lying? Catch me. Ain't no rapper breathing that match me Actually been writing it raw since I was a latchkey Got them niggas trying to axe me, their broads trying to fax me I'm high, empty your blunts in backseats of taxis Ask me if I give a fuck so I can smile and say, "No" Got an innocent grill—chill, far from a halo Stay high three-sixty-five, keep it live. Know I Still beef with your style and them corny names you go by And how it don't fit you. Swift is the way Seed hit you It's war on your fam and whoever else you brought with you (Grits) The type of drama that I'm bringing be official (Uh huh) (Uh huh, uh huh) Go wipe your nose, get the tissues I said, "Grits" [Hook: Meat Pie and DP One Scratches] (x2) I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Release lyrics from the tongue, that sound that toxic All up in your face like them grits [Verse 2: The Bad Seed] Get on some Al Green shit, small, wild teen shit Y'all niggas talking to heat the drama, but it don't mean shit Style dirty as old drawers—y'all on some clean shit Body you cold-blood, have the team on some gangsta lean shit Your eyes is virgins when it comes to drama: ain't seen shit Niggas is mad I'll stand out like a bitch with green tits Ask me 'bout the shit I'm spitting, I'll say, "Nigga, these grits" (Hot shit) Blurry your vision like some Visine drips (The Bad Seed) You ain't know that? That's some shit to hold back I'll go back to the days of flattops when I first sold crack Hoping when I could finally cop [?] and tote MACs But the older cats laughed and tried to give me no dap But who would know that, all beneath, I'd eventually own that Now I'm lacing formats: the wax, DATs, and all that Everything out my mouth is all fat. Like, for example Your shorty's waiting by the phone for me to call back And what you call that? (Them grits) [Hook: Meat Pie and DP One Scratches] (x2) I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Release lyrics from the mouth, that sound that toxic All up in your face like them grits [Verse 3: The Bad Seed] With all of my being, I despise you I even have dreams of ways to brutalize you Jump out from behind of a tree and surprise you. And show and prove That you pussy to all the cats around your way that idolize you Stomp iron vocals, flows move in NY Lick off a shot for cats that's locked or maybe dad that did crime Type nigga to wile out and, in rhyme, do some next shit Like the Moonwalk to snatch your necklace. And the iced-out Rolly is on the checklist. Flossing up on them poor Niggas like me is reckless (No question). You out of place Like Eddie Murphy in the West and reach for your guns (Yee-haw!) Walking like we drunk but (We high!) Me and my team half-baked, thugged out, [?] Bugged out, glass tapes. If we're Makin' vinyl Within your collection, you got to ask crate "Oh, you got one? (Phew). That's great." Operate Off the run-and-gun offense, effective on the fast break Hit you with that River Phoenix shit that make that ass shake You ain't got the balls to beef 'cause most'll chop or castrate Throw up your hands. Y'all niggas just don't understand Got plans, give a fuck about you or your mans We could settle it in the street or on stage in front of fans (I'll take it back like) Like the bum on some cans. I'll run with My fam. My style hot and now my tongue got a tan Done seen all. Now I just don't believe y'all You're out your mind trying to bring it to The Bad Seed, y'all (Who's bad?) Yo, evil eye with a c-rag It's your mother's baby father, but y'all niggas knew that I said, "Grits" [Hook: Meat Pie and DP One Scratches] I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Release lyrics from the dome, that sound that toxic All up in your face like them grits I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Release lyrics from the dome, that sound that toxic All up in your face like them grits I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Release lyrics from the dome, that sound that toxic All up in your face like them grits I'll take bits and pieces, pieces and bits Combine them all together to make some hot shit Every time you hear Meat Pie, you know it's some fly shit All up in your face like them grits All up in your face like them grits [Outro: The Bad Seed and DP One Scratches] Yeah. DP One. DP One. Word up. Peace to my nigga Big Kaya. Word up. DP One, Run Run Shaw break y'all jaw. We out