Guard Your Grill

(Hello?)

Hello, it's '91, buckle up, guard your grill

(What the fuck?)

Has this ever happened to you?

Can you name this tune?

If these victims knew how to guard they grill, this would've never happened

I put two and two together and I came up with four

You're forever, for God forbidden, shouldn't have to say much more

I been through more crews than the flu, yeah I'll show ya

You're so damned scrap, I betcha Bo don't know ya

You tried to get cool and say peace, save that piece for a jigsaw

Sit back and watch a real MC get raw

I never, no, never, know when another will come to diss this

But if and whenever they come, I'm runnin' this merry fist-mas

I shook up the crook and shake up the fake to get like a quick stick

It's just another one done and is dismissed

Kitty-guard your grill, but be for real, you ain't built

I'm silly-ho smackin' MC's on a ninety-degree tilt

The reason that it's tilted 'cause you're killed it, too hard to guard

It's not you're tryin' too gay, you're tryin' too hard

How hard can your guard be, I say what's up?

Guard your grill, knuckle up, put 'em up, yup

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I ain't the type to give up

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I smoke first, so what's up?

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

Put 'em up, you ain't tough

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I give much business to Aspirin

Damn, I love a glass chin

What are ya, askin' for mercy? I'm laughin', ha

You know the game, you know the name and you know the rep

You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach

There's no sleepin', no noddin', no rest and hey

No snoozin', no dozin', no effin' way

Hemmin' things up like a Coke cup

Wind me up but y'all, I gets the low with the rough stuff

And havin' enough to cut ya off a piece, and still have 'nuff

To go around to them and him because won't pluck

I-I got a posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper

You still couldn't take 'em out 'cause they was rowdy hip-hoppers

They stole much gold for roast, the rabble don't knock us

My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper

The school I had a locker filled with VCRs and vodka

I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter

Back then, I wore briefs till I started gettin' hotter

Then I grew yea long, so I had to switch to boxers

How hard can your guard be, I say wassup?

Guard your grill, knuckle up, put 'em up, duck

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I ain't the type to give up

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I smoke first, so what's up

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

Put 'em up, you ain't tough

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I don't lay, I lie, who knows? Like Pinnochio

Never been to Tokyo, on keyboard's Dave Bellochio

Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard

I got the fliest ride out here, a '91 bus card

So callin' me for a ride ain't the answer

Huh, you want a lift, ya better pick up a transfer

Sayin' we were good for one cut, now we're dead

Oh yeah? That's 'bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled

Now how wrong can you be to think we play?

Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day

So now ya feelin' real low, you no-flow crow

You slow hobo, stiffer than robo, oh

Here's another side of bein' real quick

You might sneak and fall on cracks, but you still ain't sh-

So don't try that old same-style battle cry

I rock the U-train, the routes that I battle by

I listen to censorship, entered it quite slow

Come out of that white robe, shoot a felon with a psycho

Put down ya handgun, up with ya hands, son

Look how I stand calm, I ain't the damned one

I was only three steps from a peace prize

Piece of his leg, piece of his eye on his left thigh

Knuckle up, put 'em up, yeah, guard your grill

And that's comin' from Illtown, down the hill

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I ain't the type to give up

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

I smoke first, so what's up

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

Put 'em up, you ain't tough

(Guard your grill, knuckle up)

This goes out to the 118th Street Posse

My man J Scratch in the house, ya know what I'm sayin'

And oh yeah, pss-pss-pss-pss

Don't forget, guard your grill, knuckle up

A strong what up to my man Kid Capri

This goes out to my man Jack Don

I gotta say what's up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza

What's up to Clark Kent and my man Face

This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill

'Cause they know how to definitely guard they grill

I gotta say what's up to my man Dre and Easy in the house

This goes out to my man Tamere, he's definitely in here

What's up to my homey Kool G Rap

And my Brand Nubian brothers

Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC's out there

Peace goes out

Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here

Peace!