(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 classic, 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 classic, 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 shit 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 shit!

[Hook]