Grip Grand - Bain de Soleil lyrics

It Ain't nuttin' like a fist full of cash or a bliss full of the hash That twist like a mustache, from end to end, spread it like a rash From talking through your Walkman or at your disco bash Give me the Timbs Rumpelstiltskin brown A metal face mask with a built in frown A mic to tilt down, a hundred thousand pounds And see how kilt sound like spilt milk clown Cocoa bu*ter on very ashy day fam With Ray-Bans out on the islands of Cayman Or I'll break it down for the layman Bain De Soleil for that Saint Trope.. tannnn A can a ole gold too cold to hold, slow ya roll Keep on moving like Soul II Soul, hold the dough Like a fool who stole pity y'all From tryna' go up against city hall titty bar The black mic is like a red violin Ok, everybody back to the lab, try again Bloody rap game like Leviathan Leave a bad taste, k**in' my high like Niacin Stop kiddin' middlemen need Ritalin Hit me with the full tin of gin and I'm a kid again Keep the bong lightin' straight through the song writin' The Supervillain AKA the thong bitin', that's inviting all To the reciting that's dope and raw Hoping all y'all come in peace and its open bar Tear the roof off this Bumba Ras Clot By the end of the night spazz like Shazbot Spilt a shot made the pen lines runny A ill plot that's ten times Ben Stein's money, funny How he rips the scripts with a straight face With more rhymes than is lines in ya database Placing rappers in endangerment, who's reckless With this food for thought sorta' like breakfast You could mark it off as wreck on the checklist Wear gold fronts, can't afford no necklace sh**, that there, could go to help buildin' daycares Somebody say yeahh.. (yeahhh!) Pay ya fares,... give the Herbalizers their shares And y'all could pay DOOM in beers.. Cheers!...