Grip Grand - TR-808 lyrics

Whatchu think about losin'? ‘Cuz I don't think about that sh** at all Welcome to Broakland, you should think about movin' We on strike for a higher wage They make a lot of claims, but I could see through a s**er like a Bible page Ask Ice-T if rhymin' pays How about Power, Evil E and Darlene With the shottie raised I rep Cali when I spit my vocals Throw your hands in the air like the Lench Mob logo So forget your bifocals, I told you You would need a telescope to see the sh** that I'm close to What is it? People tell me that I seem different I'm in outer space, so excuse me if I seem distant Grip been away for a while Now I'm back with new styles So prepare to get served like a caterer I was in LA in '88 playin' tapes At the Great Western Forum where The Kings and the Lakers were I take it back to the sound of my youth That TR-808...is the sound of the truth Since Rodney O. & Joe Cooley Everlasting ba** has flowed through me I got it on tape like home movies Born in the Bay, but my parents divorced I had to leave, please believe I still carry the torch I learned all about the City of Dope from Too Short California, rappers get smoked like Newports In the W, E-S-T where I be Sittin' in the park waitin' for you like Hi-C Wanna battle? I spit ‘til the record is done Call a DJ, quick, Grip is second to none I can't forget Spice One, E-40, The Click I always say what I think, like a Freudian slip So go ahead, take a photo of Grip Screamin' “Whose world is this?” Middle finger up, holdin' my...