Grip Grand - Win the War lyrics

(Adlibs) Verse 1: We came to splash on the scene this year! Cookin' audio crack, back to convert some new fiends this year We Splack Packin' on ‘em! Accurate verse, spit a razor “Subscribe to the Broke Times—Don't get the paper!” This is '89, s**er, so duck! We want the cones to pop And blow the speaker-box outta your truck Time's up. Hard rocks, too! We walk to The beat of a different drummer In the winter, and summer when it's hot, too! Do what I got to Make it brand new like Lord J, Alamo, Grand Pu, and Sadat do Don't let ‘em spot you… “Yo, there that motherf**er go. I told you I was gonna get you!” Got you! Try it, man. Strong-fist Grip, call me Iron Hands Hop out the fryin' pan Into the lion's den Piratin' my flows ‘cuz they know that my styles have been Nuts like my balls, ‘cuz you all keep your eye on them! This is supreme sh**, Rec League home-team sh** Think I'm not? Y'all got denial like Egypt! It's no secret. When the time comes, it'll be Grip Risin' from the slums like a phoenix! You wanna get sixteen on the remix? Hit me up. “666” is the prefix Deep in the B which Is my hometown, never leave it Writin' Grip Grand in the ce-ment! What! Chorus: Broakland stay up late and get drunk! Go to work still smellin' like skunk! ‘Cuz I got a half-ounce in the trunk Man, I plead the fifth! I'm in the lab like a Petri dish Singin' “This is the way we win the war! This is the way we win the war! Who's that?” Broakland, they want more! “Move back!” They want the hardcore! Bridge: Did you really think you could compete with me? I would never let a wack rapper speak to me! You're not even at your peak, you need To be backin' up, and plus practicin' frequently Because “This is the way we get the dough!” Unless you downloaded the flow, and if so, you better “Move back!” (Yo, son, you need to back the f** up!) You don't want to “Lose that!” No, no, no, no! Verse 2: It's no end to the madness! We slide out of town In a cloud of alcohol fumes, blunt smoke, and bad checks I told son wait the weekend to cash it Then split with the dough and no forwarding address Exit! Get into the booth on some next sh** Hectic! Better get insured—call Progressive Yes it's Closer to the edge than “The Message” Broakland die tryin' to get rich! I guess Grip is platinum if less is more ‘Cuz I ain't sold jack in the record store I'm just tryin' to make miracles I'm also tryin' to get a new car— If Jesus walks, I ain't tryin' to make spirituals We live in a scary world. Let's take it back! '89, Junior High, Ice Cube had a jheri curl! New Edition “Mr. Telephone Man” and “Candy Girl”… Cool it now! You need to back that a** up like Juvenile! Ha! (Chorus)