G.P. Wu
Don't Go Against The Grain
Hit Me With That Shit
[Down Low Recka]
Let em take flight, bees in the night hold ground
Swipe all belongins without makin a sound
It's the Low Down, crystal clear with these vocals
My international skills tranq the locals
Worldwide, what make you think you can hide from the darkside
Niggas you runnin from the sun
It's a no win situation goin up against Gladiation
Not knowin what you facin
[June Luva]
Yo, yo question, what was you representin back
In the days, was it the Grain or the fades
Runnin through my projects and pickin fresh cotton
Silly of you to think that G.P. would be forgotten
You're spoiled rotten, you're with the man A-Team
Allowed you with the temp, you plotted ways to make CREAM
And took the profits elsewhere money grip
As far as I'm concerned your ass better not slip
Or get hit, and injected with the truth to your vein
And a sticker on your face that reads G.P. The Grain
You wonder where this shit's stemming from, recognition
You been out for years and ain't a muthafuckin mention
Where that shit came from, instead you play dumb
Stapleton invented you, you ain't know son?
A hundred grand for the head of the imposter
That's switchin up his face hangin on the roster
Bring out the lie detector, cause we bes the truth injector
You better watch what you say or my beretta
Will be used for the first time straight out the box
Then dumped into the Hudson by the Stapleton Docks
Poppy Das (Wassup) hit me with that shit one time (no doubt)
And let these niggas know G.P. forever shine
As we illuminate and captured your state of mind
Like we try to tell you time after time
You're fuckin with the real
[Pop The Brown Hornet]
This straight shit should have been empty
Because you against me is like a grown man against a baby
No way, no how could you fuck with this
Before I'm done with you you'll be on my shit list
Dead and stinking for even thinking you could pull off an upset
Please, you don't pose near threat
You're a stinkbomb, I'm comin Stapleton style
To blow off your whole profile
My shiggy-shiggy-Shaolin style is so rugged
MCs that like our identity try to dump it
It can't be duplicated the way I situated
It's too complicated, I get highly motivated
Here comes the battlin MCs, they start thinkin
"I wanted to fuck with Pop" what the bloodclot drinkin
Hope it wasn't gassed, cause I'm about to get up in that ass
You fucked with me first but I shoulda been the last brother
Word to mother, get them feelins hurt
Dealin with the lyrical expert
Who don't give a hoot, I'll be the first to shoot
Deadly lyrics, harmonically raisin dead spirits
[Rubberbands]
G.P.'s comin through, call it a hostile takeover
You wanna huff on our LP like Shawn Connery on a hunt for Red October
Candy rappers dependin on the power of a four leaf clover
President and plus part owner
Rubberbands got more fans than Barcelona
You gettin more record sales than me, chances are slim
Like tryin to get a job on Wall Street with a diploma
High school graduate just wasn't me
So '96'll be the year I sign up for my G.E.D.
Take a trade so I have somethin to fall back on
So on a job interview this looks good
Just in case our records don't sell, nigga knock on wood
Might fall but that's just a wild and crazy thought
Cause you know we goin gold from like a month when we drop
Cause G.P. The Grain is just so so hot
The deaf niggas get left in the dust, we bust
Real hip hop guaranteed platinum and plus
Word up
G.P. hit me with that shit one time
And let these niggas know the Grain forever shine
As we illuminate and captured your state of mind
We try to tell you time after time
You're fuckin with the real
Niggas you're fuckin with the real
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