Buddy

[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 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 the [?] 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 Imma 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 [?] 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'mma 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