I’m High

You know we don’t pack heat, we pack the whole venue
You wanna grab the mic? Fuck that, I won’t let you
I’m so special, the town oughta hold a parade
Explode with the pen, like I forgot to throw the grenade
This represent a least a pint of blood I poured on the page
Yeah, I’m a beast, so they keep my microphone in a cage
That’s all I wanted to say
Your whole career is like 24 hours
You really oughta call it a day
You on the sidelines, I’m on the field callin’ the play
Winnin’ the game, I’m ‘bout to need a different name
Grip Gazillion…naw, fuck it, it isn’t the same
It’s Grip Grand, clang-clang, like a prisoner’s chains
I got it locked like the rock, told ‘em listen to Kane
Listen to G. Rap, G. Rip, Grip is insane
Like a lobotomy, I’m pickin’ your brain, simple n’ plain
I’m a dragon on the track n’ all I’m spittin’ is flames
So click-click, take a picture to remember me with
When I only had a couple gigs like a memory stick
I was already so incredibly sick
I’m like December 26th
‘cuz I’m broke, and I’ll never be fixed
You know I ran up in the jam and
Then I told ‘em to freeze
I put the squeeze on MCs like accordion keys
This is the world according to me
A recording of me’s more heat than
Two 45’s like a quarter to three
By the time you hear this record
I’ll be onto some next shit
Hit the studio, cross this beat off of my checklist
Any reasonable offer accepted
But you want Grip for free?
Sorry, can’t eat karma for breakfast
Call me PG&E, every line is electric
Something’s wrong with your song and
I’m tryna correct it
It’s the end of the line
But, yo, defeat never enter my mind
I only quit at the end of the rhyme