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lirik lagu ragu – grip

[intro: grip]
hahaha, trip, ahaha

[verse 1: grip]
uh, in the studio pullin’ all*nighters
cook up ’til my wrist lock up like arthritis
moms brightest, dads secret
but turned out half decent
we used to smoke before school and walk in class reeking
gettin’ faded faded now conversations ’bout them jordans that came out the past weekend
the other kids used to boast and chatter
i was like the first step on the social ladder
but nowadays only the vocals matter
smokin’ laughter on my conscience
and no, i’m not pro*conscious
i’m more*so no*nonsense
’cause if the kids fill up they [?] with your content
then bless they pour souls
if my kitchen [?], then it’s money closed
guns and hoes, cars, and more hoes, and more hoes
more clothes, and more clothes
the wardrobes of the rich and famous
rather these vivid paintin’s than the miscellaneous
disarrayment from an ignoramus
to busy rippin’ stages, now my gut say we disengagin’
just at different points in our life, like we was different ages
this here’s my diary, y’all, and i’m just flippin’ pages
this here’s my diary, y’all, and i’m just flippin’ pages
[chorus: grip & soul]
ragù, prego’s, not a day goes by without these a*holes
talkin’ ’bout how they stack they pesos
like legos, what’a have you, ragù
i think they lost in the sauce, n*gga (n*gga, mhm)

[verse 2: soul]
make them move like scissor cuts
precisely the way we move
been around like a box of tools
so you know i done lost some screws
only roam with a friend or two
y’all n*ggas’ squares, y’all boxed in
i’ma break y’all out them chains y’all locked in
lost in the sauce, can’t find him
these n*ggas sins that we [?]
doin’ just what the f*ck that we want
doin’ it for the things that they don’t
inspire brilliant minds that they won’t
plantin’ all the seeds that they want
sprinkle the water, watch how it grow
beggin’ for a hit, we hit your mental
baby, i should rhyme by pushin’ the keys though
maybe i should rhyme, but whoopin’ the benzo
flashin’ all my chains that flooded my wrist though
would you like that? tell me, would you like that?
if i talk about the side*b*tch nightcap
how the brain is the best like a contest
wonder how i’m standin’ right next to the pyrex, n*gga
really on a low, i’m a contract k!ller
murder verses, beat the hook
leave ’em shook, young boy is a seasoned crook
like d*mn, he a veteran, keep pedallin’
to these [?] in the loot ’cause [?] the truth
not a day goes when you’re searchin’ just to find them pesos
we ain’t talkin’ how we stackin’ them legos
how we on a corner pinchin’ like pedro
i ain’t lost in the sauce for the case [?]
but you know the money breed them a*holes
[chorus: grip]
ragù, prego’s, not a day goes by without these a*holes
talkin’ ’bout how they stack they pesos
like legos, what’a have you, ragù
i think they lost in the sauce, n*gga (mhm)

- grip

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