GRIP


Burning Bush Lyrics (feat. Kenny Mason)

[Verse 1: Grip]
Chip on my shoulder the size of a brick or boulder
I knew I had the drive back when I was whippin' Corolla
I'm still the same nigga even if I dip in the Rover
Tote the pistol eating a ten-piece chicken sippin' a soda
Listenin' to Hova
Practice the method
Told ya'll I'll be back in a second
All you niggas did was slack and act reckless
Get a snatched necklace doin' a whack setlist
I thought you knew the name of the game was stack
Nigga rap's Tetris
Check the technique I spaz like tetanus
And make a believer out of a skeptic in seconds
Him don't write raps, him sketchin'
Depression, the pain you can see it
I'm etchin' my name in the cement
Hangin' with heathens that aim it and squeeze it
This ain't for the squeamish
Have the atheist changin' his thesis, prayin' to Jesus
This for all the doors that slammed in my face
Fam in debt, a deficit that I plan to erase
They always said I'd land in the can with a case
Now I got fans in Japan that jam to my tapes
It's been bananas in the land of the apes
I was a little nigga with a full grown man on my waist
[Chorus: Grip]
I saw a chance so I took it
I saw a twelve so I booked it
I hope like hell they wasn't lookin'
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes
I hid the burner from my mama..
I saw a chance so I took it
I saw a twelve so I booked it
Hoped like hell they wasn't lookin'
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes (hold up)

[Verse 2: Kenny Mason]
Chip on my shoulder, the ones (this kinda one right here)
We had to steal out of Kroger
My life a trip nigga, Oprah
I hung with babies with rabies
We pullin' clips from the stroller
I took a sip of the soda and went into a coma (wake the f*ck up nigga)
Cynical loner, bit of a stoner
Writin' riddles that illustrate how my niggas live on the corner
I got a lead with a shooter when I pull out my home
They thought that he needed Google way he pull up the chrome
It was bullet holes in my hoodie
Mama I can explain
My brother lookin' for victims for trauma I can exchange
Shootin' in the woods that's how we work on our aim
It was spooky in the hood
We write these words to escape
Baseheads walking through Bankhead offerin' they head all for a paycheck
Talkin' a lick that's my language
Talkin' to brick walls, tryin' to talk us out of takin' off with yo shit (Dawg Zone 3 Big Dawg)
[Chorus: Grip]
I saw a chance so I took it
I saw a twelve so I booked it
I hope like hell they wasn't lookin'
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes
I hid the burner from my mama..
I saw a chance so I took it
I saw a twelve so I booked it
Hoped like hell they wasn't lookin'
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes
I hid the burner from my mama in the bushes (hold up)

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Songwriter(s): David Emmanuel, Kenny Mason, GRIP

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