Guard Your Grill

[Intro: Kay Gee]

Hello?

Hello, it's '91

Buckle up, guard your grill

What the fuck?

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

[Verse 1: Treach]

I put two and two together and I came up with four

Your forever, for God forbid, and shouldn't have to say much more

I been through more crews than a flu, yeah, I'll show you

You're so damned scrap, I bet you Bo don't know you

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 know when another will come to diss this

But if and whenever they come, I'm running this merry fist-mas

I shook up the crook and shook up the fake to get like a quick stick

It's just another one done and diss dismissed

Kitty-guard your grill, well, be for real, you ain't built

I'm silly-ho smackin MC's on a ninety-degree tilt

The reason that it's tilted 'cause you're guilty, too hard to guard

It's not you're tryin' too gay, you're tryin' too hard

How hard can your guard be, I say what's up?

Guard your grill, knuckle up, put 'em up, yup

[Chorus]

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

[Verse 2: Treach]

I give 'em much business, an Aspirin, damn, I love a glass chin

What are you, askin' 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 sleeping, no nodding, no restin', hey

No snoozin', no dozin', no effin' way

Everything's up like a Coke cup

Wind me up, but y'all, I gets the low with the rough stuff

And havin' enough to cut you off a piece and still have 'nough

To go around to them and him because won't pluck

I, I got a posse full of fighters, all fly like a chopper

You still couldn't take em out 'cause they was rowdy hip-hoppers

They stole much gold from roast and random door-knockers

My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper

The school, I had a locker filled with VCRs and vodka

I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter

Back then, I wore briefs 'til 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

[Chorus]

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

[Verse 3: Treach]

I don't lay, I lie, who knows? Like Pinocchio

Never been to Tokyo, on keyboards, Dave Bellochio

Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard

I got the flyest ride out here, a '91 bus card

So callin' me for a ride ain't the answer, huh

You want a lift, you 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 you're feelin' real low, you no-flow crow

You slow hobo, stiffer than robo, oh

Here's another side of bein' real quick

You might sneak and fall like cracks, but you still ain't shh

So don't try to no same-style battle cry

I rock the U train, the rules that I battle by

I listen to censorship, entered it quite slow

Come out of that white robe, shoot a felon with a psycho

Put down your handgun, up with your hands, son

Look how I stand calm, 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 Illtown, down the hill

[Chorus]

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

[Outro]

This goes out to the 118th Street Posse

My man J Scratch in the house, you know what I'm sayin'?

And oh yeah, pss-pss-pss-pss

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 and he's in the house

This goes out to my man Tamere, he's definitely in here

What's up to my homie Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers

Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MCs out there

Peace goes out

Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here

Peace