Lyrics Grown Folks - Fakts One, Little Brother

Grown Folks

Check it out
(Yeah, check it out)
Little Brother
(Are we recordin?)
Phonte, Big Pooh and 9th Wonder
(We're not? We are?)
Justus League
(Oh it’s rollin?)
Run for cover
Check it out
Uh, uh
(LB and Fakts One)
We about to do the damn thing y’all
(And that’s how’s it done)
Little Brother
(North Carolina)
Fakts One
(To Massachusetts and all that)
And everybody
(Let's get it goin, check it out)
Check a, check it out, right now
Been known to pop the oculars of MC’s that’s eyein mine (uh)
Tay chillin in the cut like iodine, have you cryin blind (Wah)
Hip hop was half dead, we try to revitalize
My big Rube style, y’all Americans idolize (woooo)
And Simon says shut the fuck up when you try to rhyme
This rap shit is more than what I do with idle time (idle time)
When I was young had a vision
That one day I would move the crowd ill like a bad magician (ill like a bad
magician)
Hooked with Pooh and 9th and got on a battle mission
And now we on point like statisticians (dodododo …)
Let the whole world have a listen
Rollin across country in a van with the windows tinted (in a van with the
windows tinted)
With no alcohol, blow, or no indo in it
Ten years (ten years) and y’all fuckers still tryin to get your demo finished?
(AH!)
Damn shame y’all done been so timid
A «House Party», and «I'm gonna get those digits!»
(Rapper Big Pooh) — 2X
Yo, LB put it down from North Cak to Boston
(Signs of the times and my sign read 'caution')
Lost when my rhyme style changed quite often
(«Boy shut your mouth when grown folks is talkin!»)
They want to know who the best is
Expose holes in your flows like a case of asbestos
I damage rhyme architectures
The ex of professors (ex of professors), spittin lectures
Yo, my love’s gonna get ya (love's gonna get ya)
Flow like ketchup, perform holdin my «Shaft»
I’m a bad mother (shut your mouth), you better watch yo ass
Glass jaw, not need MC’s, they not need believe
'Til they slumped over fightin to breathe (fightin to breathe)
Incitin to squeeze, you know my steez (you know my steez)
Hundred degrees, a hundred ten percent, if you askin Bradley
I will gladly (I will gladly), bust up the scene
CO, Chief Indian, know what I mean?
(know what I mean?)
Probably not, in case you forgot, a wicked jump shot (a wicked jump shot)
In my lifetime (in my lifetime), never slang crack rock
Peep the back drop, all about skills I, a lottery pick and never in the last
spot
Check it out
— w/ ad libs
Fakts One’s ready (Big Dho)
Big Dho’s ready (O eighteen)
Ak is ready (J League)
North Krys is ready (Comenchi)
9Th Wonder’s ready (E-Flow)
MB’s ready (Chaundon)
J League’s ready (come on)
And we keep it comin
You ain’t tryin to really see a rhyme predator flex
Phontigilo (Phontigilo), a bad motherfucker like Edifice Rex (chill)
LB put in down like a veteran set
Check 3, 4, (check 3, 4) he’s two steps ahead of the rest (come on)
I’m in control of these mic devices
Pooh was priceless (Pooh was priceless)
Sort of like MasterCard, I master squads (master squads), I blast on y’all
In case you want to know later, that’s why I’m laughin y’all (laughin y’all)
That’s like ha ha ha ha, say it so bizarre
Rip mics and spit tight like it’s Mardi Gras (like it’s Mardi Gras)
This ain’t a comedy stop, save your hardy hars
We can cut the bullshit, drop the blaise blas (drop the blaise blas)
I never was the type to trip on all these broads
And their dime store Minolo’s and fake Armani bras (ha!)
We spit it for the streets and people that want it hard
Show love (show love) and treat 'em just like they one of ours (aight, come on)
Y’all’s better bow down to the champs here (champs here)
I suggest you play me close cause we got the goods here
Approach our competition and I have no fear (approach our competition and I
have no fear)
LB, Fakts One, J League, stand clear
Now what