Whiteboard (Makin' Eggs)

by Grip Grand

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1.
People always gotta talk I can hear 'em in the hall I can hear 'em change the volume of the TV through the wall You can chalk it up to ignorance Jot it on the whiteboard If I get any higher I'll require a longer mic cord It's layers to this music And when I peel 'em back, Then everybody get a full clip I put 'em in a rap to give the track a Silver Bullet There's nothing "Light" about me My record speaks for itself when these motherfuckers doubt me Call the reverend for the exorcism Get these demons out me Send 'em screamin back to hell And when I hear the [beep] they talk, I need a sleeping bag, for real I am so tired of the bullshit I can't make my appointment, tell the doctor that I'm still sick And then re-up my prescription But they don't make a medicine to clear up my condition I'ma read up on my history and give up my religion "When you believe in things you don't understand, then you suffer" -- Stevie Wonder, "Superstition" After midnight, in my boxer shorts, I wander to the kitchen 'Cause I need a glass of water Does anybody love Grip? Well, you'd need to ask my daughter You'd have to ask my son if I could be a better father Some people never bother Just another vicious cycle that I don't want any part a'... It don't come any harder So don't come any farther I guess that's what I'm sayin' They call it devil music, so I guess that's what I'm playin' People wonder what my color is like "Steppin' to the A.M." I know that you're not old enough to get that line I'll prob'ly use a different rhyme But, honestly, I couldn't really care My middle finger, I'ma put it in the air like it's a picket sign Ain't you know I got it? "And what is 'it', exactly?" What is this, a joke? I am offended that you asked me All my levels on a billion times a billion so get back, we 'Bout to kill it, son, it's filthy like the back seat of a taxi I'm sayin', the flow is is nasty I'm insane, the flow is Kathy...Bates in Misery: I'm breakin' legs This your brain on drugs, And Grip is in the kitchen makin' eggs People always gotta talk I can hear 'em in the hall I can hear 'em change the volume of the TV through the wall You can chalk it up to ignorance Jot it on the whiteboard If I get any higher I'll require a longer mic cord
2.
People always gotta talk I can hear 'em in the hall I can hear 'em change the volume of the TV through the wall You can chalk it up to ignorance Jot it on the whiteboard If I get any higher I'll require a longer mic cord It's layers to this music And when I peel 'em back, Then everybody get a full clip I put 'em in a rap to give the track a Silver Bullet There's nothing "Light" about me My record speaks for itself when these mother------- doubt me Call the reverend for the exorcism Get these demons out me Send 'em screamin back to hell And when I hear the [beep] they talk, I need a sleeping bag, for real I am so tired of the bull---- I can't make my appointment, tell the doctor that I'm still sick And then re-up my prescription But they don't make a medicine to clear up my condition I'ma read up on my history and give up my religion "When you believe in things you don't understand, then you suffer" -- Stevie Wonder, "Superstition" After midnight, in my boxer shorts, I wander to the kitchen 'Cause I need a glass of water Does anybody love Grip? Well, you'd need to ask my daughter You'd have to ask my son if I could be a better father Some people never bother Just another vicious cycle that I don't want any part a'... It don't come any harder So don't come any farther I guess that's what I'm sayin' They call it devil music, so I guess that's what I'm playin' People wonder what my color is like "Steppin' to the A.M." I know that you're not old enough to get that line I'll prob'ly use a different rhyme But, honestly, I couldn't really care My middle finger, I'ma put it in the air like it's a picket sign Ain't you know I got it? "And what is 'it', exactly?" What is this, a joke? I am offended that you asked me All my levels on a billion times a billion so get back, we 'Bout to kill it, son, it's filthy like the back seat of a taxi I'm sayin', the flow is is nasty I'm insane, the flow is Kathy...Bates in Misery: I'm breakin' legs This your brain on drugs, And Grip is in the kitchen makin' eggs People always gotta talk I can hear 'em in the hall I can hear 'em change the volume of the TV through the wall You can chalk it up to ignorance Jot it on the whiteboard If I get any higher I'll require a longer mic cord

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released September 30, 2014

Produced by Grip Grand

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