Lyrics Ain't Sayin Nothin - Grits

Ain't Sayin Nothin

Thieves shake the equal
Glamour Ritz, we got our chucks on
Many times we been surpassed, they rather put smucks on
Insubordinate knuckleheads insisting they be spoon fed
Indeed take precautions, while split-up will make you nauseas
Simplicity seems to get the best of me
Listening to emcees twisting renditions of authoring
Following the hollow styles of other individuals, while we originals get passed
off like apologies
My man Bone speaking terms that you learn to discern
The turn turns roundabout, I sound about
The animosity, verbal viscosities — I scoff at these insipid nitwits that be
swearing that they’re emcees
Drama when mics are around the circumferences
Cannibalistic mandates of artists labeled «Platinum hits,»
Poisonous venom is what I send them if they nip at this
Like a dipstick, I let them know that they’re full of it
Fill your cup with the hardy tawdry intellect
I’m injecting a proposal and discretion disposal
Grasp for reality — can’t get in your clutches with the Starsky and Hutches
Scribbling wannabes promoting the crutches
Oh no, Bone and Coffee getting deep again
Foes, get your boots
Rich gets stick when heat sets in
Catch wind and hold your nose as the stench of the truth imposes the sell of
the units to the youth
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Emcees today, they got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Emcees today, they got nothing to say
I’m gonna lay down my burdens down by the riverside
Gliding across sand with the mic in my hand
Standing out like in arabesque, my styles are blessed
Delivering the true, you see my mind, I’ve never been this good
The semen of my psyche, it impregnates the tape
Ballistic, mind-blowing concepts of language, in true, deep-seated laws of
religion
My polemics stand erect, but my craving’s not in check
The elect Coffee runs for alderman
I called him in to hit the frontline
They want rhymes, ill do my best
Make them digest the foam loaf;
add some gravy for you, baby
If I ever, better never, write a lyrics without meaning, nowadays people would
probably boo me from the stage in a rage
Tomato juice dripping from my polo hat
Crying, «Why they dissing?
Why won’t they listen?»
For the chimpanzees the monkey shines the funky rhymes
I do, huh, f-f-f-fantastic
Excellence endureth
Goteeage grips, they toureth
Mental oven heats the muffin for the jackals who say nothing
Some brothers be talking about things they only seen on videos, or they heard
it on the radio
I ask real hip-hoppers to bring a stop to these gimmicks and industry
investment mimics
Now I’m bidding adieu, my salutation’s through
Get a clue, get a grip, release the trip
The Christian’s position in need of a physician
Grits got the blood of Jesus dripping on renditions
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Emcees today, they got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Emcees today, they got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Ain’t saying nothing, got nothing to say
Emcees today, they got nothing to say
Ain’t, ain’t, saying, saying, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Ain’t, ain’t, saying, saying, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing