Grip Grand - Hip-Hop Cla**ic lyrics

(Adlibs) Verse 1: I'm from the West Coast, but I ain't a felon or thug I stay in fresh mode. Rappin' is a hell of a drug If you see the fam, tell ‘em it's love that kept me in the lab Outta touch, on the grind, sellin' my blood In CDs and LPs, mixtape appearances… Kids say they waitin' for that Grip plate, and here it is Take it serious! They said it's time to build? Well stand back and watch Grip make the pyramids! When I was a kid I had a tape of “Delirious” It was hilarious! Sorta like your style Which is why you're embarr-a-ssed, file under “Various Artists Whose Songs Sound…When Compared to This” I couldn't care a bit. I've tooken care of it And got the competition lookin' for a therapist It'll prob'ly take a couple of sessions Wait, tell the doctor that I got a couple of questions, like… [Hook] I'm tryin' to make a hip-hop cla**ic, so tell me what that is Tell me what that is It isn't somethin' you could sell in a package But is it somethin' you could tell if you have it? I think I started to develop a habit! I said I'm tryin' to make a hip-hop cla**ic, so tell me what that is Tell me what that is It isn't somethin' you could sell in a package But is it somethin' you could tell if you have it? I tried to tell ‘em I'm a hell of an addict… Verse 2: Here we go, low budget like matinees Take your fronts out—Tom Hanks, “Castaway” That's your face. Rap is great, no debates No mistakes, Grip ride with no b-brakes Yo yo! Big things, call me overweight! Hope to make Hits like the Oakland A's Long time, work hard, get no r-raise No p-praise, boss say you're overpaid! In Broakland, where I make my stand They cut the water and the power off How I'm ‘posed to make my jams? Or rap fresh even if I ain't bathed for days? Don't make me laugh, like “Hkk-hkk-hkk!” Flavor Flav! Pay to play. Bay sh** like Taydatay I'm from the League—Rec League, not the JLA We all drink, smoke, quote “In a Major Way” And we don't hate taxes—we don't pay that sh**! [Hook]