LYRIC



[Kay Gee]
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..

[Treach]
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
Ya so damn scrap, I bet ya beau 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 know never when another will come to diss this
But if and whenever they come I’m runnin’ this “Merry Fist-Miss!”
I shook up the crook and shake up the fake, take it like a quick stick
It’s just another one done and just dismissed
Can you guard your grill with me, for real? You ain’t built!
I’m silly-hoe smackin’ MC’s on a ninety-degree tilt!
The reason that it’s tilted ’cause you killed it
-Too hard to guard!
It’s not you’re trying too gay, you’re trying 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 swung 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 aksin’ for mercy? I’m laughin’, Huh!
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 f’in way!
Hamming things up like a cold cut.
Wind me up a jaw like it’s the law with the rough stuff
And havin’ enough to cut ya off a piece and still have enough
To go around to them and him, here comes one punk
I-I got posse full a fighters, all fly like a chopper
Used to couldn’t take ’em out ’cause they was rowdy Hip-Hopper’s!
They stole much corn from rows to bands and dope knockers
My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper
In school I had a locker filled with VCR’s and Vodka
I had two girls, one a runner and one a trotter
Back then I wore briefs, till I started gettin’ hotter
Then I grew “yay-long”, so I had to switch to Boxers!
How hard can your guard be? I say what’s up!
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 swung 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 Allah, who knows like Pinnochio?
Never been to Tokyo, on keyboards Dave Bellocchio
Guard your grill, here’s the field, I rush hard!
I got the flyest ride out here, a ’91 bus card!
So calling 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 stink up all the cracks, but you still ain’t-Shh!
So don’t try to those same style, battle cry
That I rock, then you try, the rules that I battle by
I listened to censorship and did it quite slow
Come outta that white robe, shoot a barrel with a psycho!
“Put down ya handgun! Up with ya hands, son!”
“Look, how stands come!”
-And I ain’t the damned one!
I was only three steps from a “Peace Prize”
Piece of his leg, piece of his eye and his left thigh!
Knuckle up, put ’em up, yeah, guard your grill!
And that’s comin’ from Ill-Town, down the hill!

Guard your grill, knuckle up!
-I ain’t the type to give up.
Guard your grill, knuckle up!
-I swung 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, “Psst-psst, psst psst psst…”
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, he’s in the house!
This goes out to my man Tamir, he’s definitely in here!
What’s up to my homie, Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brother’s!

Special shout-out to my man, Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC’s out there!
Peace goes out!
Peace to my man Frank Benny, we outta here
Peace!

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Grill (1) - Guard (1) - Hip Hop (600)

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