[Intro]
Yea, Grand Unified Theory
What up, Traumah? Yo
(Yo). Greydon Square
Yea, spell that right, that's:
G-R-E-Y... never mind
Ayo, yo
[Verse 1]
I could easily say I'm the best damn rapper you've heard
But I'm not, I'm just another rapper that's waiting to get shot
But if someone gets it before me I'm taking his spot
This is by default via payola he bought
Meet the DJ he paid to play his music until he talks
And stop the onslaught when Christopher Reeve walks
I ain't worried about these cats, they ain't no threat to me
Cause most of these rappers suck like X-Men III
You wanna ride, homie? Then let's go
I bang for the dang left side of the west coast
I seen it comin'
Your plan's doomed to fail like a government that's underfunded
Stealin' money from the economy 'til the market plummets
You want some tips? Don't be afraid, just ask me
My music's funkier than deodorant-less athletes
A battle self-defeating that gets me no victory
Like a fat woman ordering diet coke at Micky D's
After ordering two quarter pounders with triple cheese
Just stick to your dope-dealing raps about flipping ki's
I'm Greydon Square, and you're damned right I'll take it there
If the beef calls for it I'll sock you and leave you laying there
[Chorus]
You gonna bang on it
Throw them thangs on it
Pull out the 44 slug and hold a flame on it
Maybe it's something that you Oscar Mayers
See in my face that make you believe you can steal my place
Well watch me change the game on it
Where it ain't the same on it
Make it to where if they knew by now then they ain't knowing
Or is that I'm out doing my thing, breaking the mold
Embracing the new, but shaking the old
I'ma just do me
[Verse 2]
I want a half a mic in The Source, a small in double-XL
Release my album on a Friday and have trouble with sales
'Til my label drops me and pulls my records from shelves
Go broke, turn to crime, and have a record in jail
They wanted me to get crunk with club songs that summer jam
But it won't happen like me havin' sex with another man
I just can't look at a man's ass and say "mm, I want that"
I'd rather have intercourse with the dirtiest swamp rat
We can get it poppin' with all of my friends watchin'
Whiskers and all, me in my drawers, even if she is small
You want this track? Cop it. You want some beef? Stop it
I got more gadgets on my cannons than doctor Robotnik
[Chorus]
You gonna bang on it
Throw them thangs on it
Pull out the 44 slug and hold a flame on it
Maybe it's something that you Oscar Mayers
See in my face that make you believe you can steal my place
Well watch me change the game on it
Where it ain't the same on it
Make it to where if they knew by now then they ain't knowing
Or is that I'm out doing my thing, breaking the mold
Embracing the new, and shaking the old
Just let me just do me
[Verse 3]
Your whole style and gimmick's outdated like chopsticks
While my verses hit you hard like Bruce Lee crotch kicks
And dog fights, damn the plane, I aim for the cockpit
And make sure I'm the only black dude in a mosh pit
Cause when I mosh, I don't throw bows, I throw bowls
The kind where you eat your oatmeal and cereal
You wanna battle? I'ma spit 'til you ain't breathin'
How you MCin'? Playing more games than ESPN
And don't that think you have a physical answer
Cause I'll leave your eyes blacker than the skin of rotten bananas
I'll cock the hammer and squeeze
And leave Americans afraid of me like 1973 Vietnamese
I'm all over the beef, right when it pops softly
You couldn't pry me apart like black people and hot sauce
So if you feelin' me, hit back and just restart this
If you not, you can blow me like an old Nintendo cartridge
[Chorus]
We 'bout to bang on it
Throw them thangs on it
Pull out the 44 slug and hold a flame on it
Maybe it's something that you Oscar Mayers
See in my face that make you believe you can steal my place
Well watch me change the game on it
Where it ain't the same on it
Make it to where if they knew by now then they ain't knowing
Or is that I'm out doing my thing, breaking the mold
Embracing the new, and shaking the old
Just let me just do me