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Back To The Grill

MC Serch•Официальное аудио (YouTube API)

Текст песни

Back to the grill again, the grill again

Back to the grill (Serch'll never stand still)

You need a posse the size of the Nazis to attack this

And you're more optimistic than the Sounds Of Blackness

Flip rhymes that rip through the chest cavity

And I keep goin' and goin' just like an Energizer battery

Flattery will get you nowhere, unless it's the derriere

And then it gets you everywhere

Went to the flea market, was in my car, I parked it

Beef like blunts, if you got it, then spark it

And with the fisticuffs came the fists

And you've joined Steven Segal on the 'Marked For Death' hit-list

Went back to the '70s and brothers got on grins

'Cause they can step to sisters and say, "Slap me some skins, honeydip"

And take the squaw to the teepee

Hit it off, smoke a cig, watch a little TV

And if there ain't no papes, there's no show

I'll just chill and return to kick 'em in the grill

Back to the grill again, the grill again (word up)

Back to the grill again, the grill again (MC Serch)

Back to the grill again, the grill again (that was fly)

Back to the grill again, the grill again (we gonna try like this, though, um)

Bust a style while I do it, if you know it or you knew it

If you knew it, then you knew it, if I catch a punk chewin'

I'ma drop the flavor fluid on his head, yep, I flew it

And like Aretha Franklin, your moms is jumpin' to it

So, so, so, where did you go, what do you know?

So many people want to be fly like Joe

G.I., E.I., oh, lots, and lots

And any rapper can top the Red Hot, not

R'n'B rips hip-hop, not

MC Serch is gonna flip-flop, not

All my hoes look like Sasquatch, not

And uh, George Bush gets 'nuff props

Well, uh, anyway, I'ma slay, slay, lay

Pull a hoe around my way and make hooker soufflé, uh

Red Hot Lover Tone would like to thank MC Serch, yo, you're chill

For makin' me part of history, kickin' 'em in the grill

Finesser, keep a TEC-9 in my dresser

Lyrical professor, keep ya under pressure

Mind like a computer, the inserter

Paragraphs of murder, the nightclub flirter

This is Nas, kid, you know how it runs

I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns

Stickin' up the preachers in the church, I'm a stone crook

Serial killer, who works by the phone book

For you, I got a lot to shoot and songs to hear

My rhymes are hotter than a prostitute with gonorrhea

On the mic, I let vocabulary spill

(It's like that, y'all), that, y'all, kick 'em in the grill

Back to the grill again, the grill again

(Jump, jump, with the man, with the plan, Chubb Rock)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

(Jump, jump, with the man, with the plan, Chubb Rock)

The Chubbsta breaks in oddy fakes, then he r–aids the panty

Mix the verse, flips to Serch, "Kick 'Em In The Grill" again

Part two, sequel of 'The Derelicts of Dialect'

The murder licks, Vanilla kicks it to climb on the crucifix

Burnin' around the mountain when he comes to sell the record bumps

Digest the lyrics, then you suck on some Tums

Crumbs with the MSG from the lump sums

Elixir to the mixture to the friction, and then you're hummin'

The door rings, yo, I'm comin' to a theater near you

Get your popcorn and your brew, and a Guinness Stout

Check the clot, when I'm about

'Cause you are a blabbermouth

A blabber, it gets no badder

Lyrics on a diet 'cause it gets no fatter

Like a Gwen to the Guthrie and jumpin' up on the scene

With the Serches with the verses, word up, the illustrian

Rapper, dapper, snapper fish, you want us to sell out your wish?

My lips have never touched the circumference of a spliff

And if you see some coke or some spill

With some ill pill, yo, kick me in the grill, grill

Back to the grill again, the grill again

Back to the grill again (so get up and get down)

(Serch'll never stand still)

So here's a true or false, tell me if it's fact or bull

You wanna kill the Klan, shoot the fans at a tractor pull?

Got crazy game, so no one can stop me

But, ayo, I'm white, I guess my game is hockey

Or basketball, football, takin' papes in poker

If honeydip got a money clip, I'm gonna stroke her

Wait a minute, chill, chill, can't swing

'Cause my girl ain't my girl no more, now she got a ring

Respect my wisdom like I respect myself

Try the G, I'll put you in a tree just like the Keebler elves

You couldn't be The Mack if you had the car, the hat, the ho

And your shit would still be out the back like a patio

'Cause I saw you eatin' pig knuckles, with Frankie Knuckles

In a club called Chuckles, wearin' name plate belt buckles

Goddamn, your life is flimsy

Gave you 'nuff respect, but took it back 'cause I was stingy

So from the cons and pros to the pros and the cons

Call me a motherfucker, I'll say, "Yeah, I fucked ya moms!"

Until she calls back, I'm gonna chill

Peace to Red Hot Lover Tone, Chubb Rock, kick 'em in the grill

Back to the grill again, the grill again

Back to the grill (Serch'll never stand still)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

(Jump, jump, with the man, with the plan, Chubb Rock)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

(Jump, jump, with the man, with the plan, Chubb Rock)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

(Damn, Serch'll never stand still)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

Back to the grill again, the grill again (Serch'll never stand still)

Back to the grill again, the grill again (so get up and get down)

Back to the grill again, the grill again

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Back To The Grill

Текст песни