Life In Lo-Fi... Vol. 1
by Fess Grandiose
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 16-track album in your choice of MP3 320, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Free Download
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about
Debut album from the Chicago-based MC, DJ and Producer...
CLICK THE LYRICS LINK FOR LYRICS
CLICK THE LYRICS LINK FOR LYRICS
credits
released 10 September 2011
Copyright 2011 Kimball House Productions
Recorded at The Kimball House and The Bank Studios
Mix and Mastered at The Bank Studios
Copyright 2011 Kimball House Productions
Recorded at The Kimball House and The Bank Studios
Mix and Mastered at The Bank Studios
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
feeds for about
In an industry that prizes pigeonholes, Fess Grandiose brings something new to the industry: versatility. Born and raised on ... more the south side of Chicago, he began as a MC at 17. Now Fess is a triple threat: an MC, DJ, and producer. From the lyrics, to production, down to the scratching, you'll be wondering what comes next. less
contact / help
For help with downloads, click here.
For all other inquiries, click here.
- Track Name: Dolla-Holla(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse 1:
Dog...
I'm comin' at ya' noodles bitch,
You talk real pitbull, but walk real poodle-ish,
I'm fresh, check out my new maneuvers kid,
My shit sprout life like manure-sick,
You should get,
Focused...
On the scene ahead like a camera lense,
Or I suggest you don't let them dress you,
Like a manikin...
My ramblings blacker than Grambling, hey,
My presence should bare flutes and mandolins,
I'm handling my B.I, responding to ill chicas,
But for a freak I wouldn't go further east than G.I,
You see why I'm hailed,
You see why you fail,
America online my nigga we've got mail,
Your a dick like Chip with his friend Dale,
Fess neva' frail, and yes I sip ale,
Tall tales be havin' rappers like "Aw, hell",
Braggin' bout they cartel,
When they weight is barbells, ch-yea...
Hook:
Dolla dolla, Holla holla,
Bout them greenbacks,
Gotta have that, break me down to brass tax,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back. Rpt1x
Verse 2:
Vibe of a Samoan with tribe energy flowin',
Push rappers out of networks,
Like Leno did to Conan,
I'm zonin',
While baby girl camel-toe foamin',
Always condoning hot sex in tha' mornin,
You better know son,
Game's new shogun,
Ya' new girls ex-man,
Changed names to Logan,
Nerds be perturbed,
Like "A-yo whats the word,
I heard you just another nigga by way of the burbs",
Same niggas nervous talkin',
When they talkin' street cred,
Subconsciously snitchin',
Not knowing they man could be feds,
Real talk,
Must got a couple gears lost,
You fake living Grey Goose,
When you only Smirnoff,
Fess on his job all day like "Here, boss",
Mike Tyson of cyphers biting ears off,
At shear cost I'm golfing,
Get 'em Tiger,
Don't holla unless yo' dollas is blinding,
Get enlightened.
Hook:
Dolla dolla, Holla holla,
Bout them greenbacks,
Gotta have that, break me down to brass tax,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back. Rpt1x
Verse 3:
You heard the man,
You got a dolla you got more than me,
I hate that when its raining,
Its really pouring G,
Caz' inna' minute I'mma' have to dead diplomacy,
Do things inappropriately,
All for the groceries...
Fess fly frequently faded forever focused fool,
Grandiose galiant great gifted General,
Not in my complex to only get the minimal,
Maximum gain,
Skimmin' change,
Game's criminal,
Full of shit...
Givin' the same originals,
Pitchin' the same videos,
Trippin' wit' lame visuals,
Now here we go again...
Open minds closin' in,
I'm rockin' won't stop until my pockets fat and bulgin',
I'm indulging on that old drug called freedom,
I told 'em it was free,
But know-it all's don't believe him,
Get bass in ya' beats,
Unless you want them fags lerkin',
Rappers at the beach,
But to many swag surfin'.
Hook:
Dolla dolla, Holla holla,
Bout them greenbacks,
Gotta have that, break me down to brass tax,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back,
Before you holla-dollas better give me cash back. Rpt1x - Track Name: Get it Right(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse 1:
This is beat rock,
Somethin' so outta' norm,
Got yo' beat box bangin than louder before,
For the burbs, street blocks, and the college dorms,
And for those who wouldn't do shit for a Klondike,
Niggas bickerin' and twitterin',
Too many blog sites,
Useless,
Like a plastic bottle inna' bar fight,
My vocals so cold,
My tongue got frost-bite,
I'm gettin' off right?
See I can tell ya
That it ain't no sunshine,
For those on the up rise,
Thought you was up next,
But no cut since tha' lunch line,
Done tryin' to school these fools on what it is,
Fess tha' monsta',
Bumpin' at night for all you kids,
Who couldn't find they way right if you was left for being wrong...
I'll show ya how to bubble,
Especially witta' bong,
Now that's freshness,
Fess so epic hit tha' gong nigga...
Hook:
I think ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
You movin' tha' wrong way,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
So quit movin' the wrong way,
And do what tha' song say,
Get ya' ass up and get it right,
Becaz' ya movin' tha wrong way,
Ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
You need to gon',
Just gon' and get it right,
I'm sayin gon',
Just gon' and get it right.
Verse 2:
A-yo see I'm that spittin' image,
Of that vintage rhythm,
But ain't rappin' for nostalgia,
Just another reason to put a hipster on ya' album,
Fickle ass niggas comin' strange when the mainstream changed,
It's a shame but fuck it,
Dolla's on my mind,
Don't really make sense,
Now fuck makin' payments,
I'm tryin to get paid quick,
So naysayers can't really say shit,
Talkin' bout...
Oh, really?
Well wutchu' know about the game when yo' fame is merely local at best?,
Lost focused but still be gloatin',
Pokin' ya chest out,
I'm about results,
I dunno' what the rest bout',
Ya' plan gon' wrong,
And that's the word of the next mouth Yo,
To better explain,
Ya' own fans think ya' whack mayne,
They think ya' style is a pour excuse for acting,
Stop that tough talk,
You not that real,
Told you to stop rappin',
This is not yo' field mayne.
Hook:
I think ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
You movin' tha' wrong way,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
So quit movin' the wrong way,
And do what tha' song say,
Get ya' ass up and get it right,
Becaz' ya movin' tha wrong way,
Ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
You need to gon',
Just gon' and get it right,
I'm sayin gon',
Just gon' and get it right.
One time for ya' muthafuckin' cranium,
Grandiose titanium flow,
So higher than the others get,
Rhymin' bout' that other shit,
Hotter than a sauna wit' a Chilean mamasita,
Or more refreshin' than a tall glass of margarita,
I swear this shit is like Sunday morning,
But niggas will pay a dolla just to not pay attention,
I swear nowadays it's so hard to get a listen,
Just like nowadays it's so hard tryin' to eat,
Now do I wanna' fall in the belly of tha' beats?,
Be that cat who heavy in the streets,
But pockets petty to say the least, never,
I'll change like Obama,
Chi-city's a microcosm of stars,
Wit' dreams of supernova,
Never screw me in or even screw me over,
A old system,
But Fess a new controller mayne.
Hook:
I think ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
You movin' tha' wrong way,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
So quit movin' the wrong way,
And do what tha' song say,
Get ya' ass up and get it right,
Becaz' ya movin' tha wrong way,
Ya' doin' it wrong mayne,
And we know two wrongs don't make a right,
You need to gon',
Just gon' and get it right,
I'm sayin gon',
Just gon' and get it right. - Track Name: Another Dilla Beat Pt. 1 & 2(Prod. by J Dilla)
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Just another Dilla beat,
Grandiose soliloquy,
Suggest you take me seriously,
Respect to those who hearing me,
Respect to the epitome of those who steady struggle,
Small physique but still be pulling heavy muscle,
Hard hustle I'mma' rising proletariat,
You swaggin' from ya mommas crib I find that so hilarious,
Ya' grown man,
Wow...
No chance I hold hands like romance,
Show Grand what keep pockets bulging,
Keep wrists frozen,
Who's the next chosen one to blow up son,
Verbal exhibitions recognition's what I rap for,
Stack more paper till' you can't reach my platform,
Real words can't comprehend with the artificial,
While y'all rocking whatever make and model fits you,
Fuckin lame I'll rip ya name off the marquee,
Ya' needing to get a job since that band the Offspring,
Automatic tuned, still singing so off key,
Ya' fake propaganda sound so McCarthy,
I mean really cuz' can't knock my city buzz,
Getting love from college nerds and gritty thugs,
Hippers and hoppers churchin' we all fellowship,
Then spread to my niggas,
Call it ghetto eloquence,
Self-evident I was born to represent,
For sex I'm only present wit' women of all decadence,
Yea in other words them stuck up broads,
Crisp as tha' snare the kicks is so Chuck Norris,
Got mine fam,
Why don't you worry bout yours?
Breaka' full sweat when it's 20 below outdoors I'm hot...
We all hustle but don't tussle for the same cause,
I'm apathetic to A & R's and saying pause,
Peace to Rhymefest,
For not talkin' but takin' charge,
Power to all,
From synagogues to prison yards,
Not that long ago niggas was acting illy,
Caz the president is black and just happen to rep the city we came from,
My people get offended when I ask what he changed up,
Caz for the modern man all the struggles the same son,
Well,
Perhaps some niggas got it twisted,
Thinking that Obama was really gonna switch up they position,
And we like hell yea,
Gimmie' that health care,
While some will give they soul to sit in that desk chair,
Then you got those who husslin' welfare,
And they be over there like there's no help here,
Why?
Define gentrification,
Turn the burbs to the slums,
Give the slums a renovation,
And they say you gotta move caz' yo' son is on probation,
Neo-Jim Crow,
Modern day segregation,
Yo,
I be hating saying words that rhyme with nation,
Just a,
Vivid reminder of fallace times that we facing,
Lord,
Mercy to the un-edu-macated,
Knowing that the ignorance weaker than the information,
Now I'm a fair student I study but still ditch class,
Pour some then kick back,
For more fun then six flags,
old man swag talkin' trash like da Mayor
Circling round the hood some 20 yrs later,
After my term served what nerve of me,
Drunk as fuck telling these kids to do the right thing...
(They don't know... They don't know what they doing.
Let me get it back, yo...)
The spite of bright teen chasing a pipe dream,
Embracing all hours of chaos,
And yea I've seen,
Peers running scared like deer from high beams,
Not really prepared for take off,
On Permanent lay off,
Young alcoholics gather round and talk moves over a couple of years,
Years later still rambling over a couple of beers,
Same town same crew still stuck in they chair,
Wit' they ass out,
Beautiful minds be gettin' rotted out,
And closer to a grave like a sad funeral,
Ya' people walking out like a bad play or musical,
Not once in ya' life was you worried bout' what you should do...
Had to keep it social as usual,
Yo,
Life's pain is just a blessin' in disguise,
You gotta know how to grow,
When life plants you on the behind,
Keep a third eye on who be tapping into yo' mind
No time to unwind and let your foot off tha gas,
Tha' time is now consider the present the past muh-fucka... - Track Name: Piled In... Ft. Impolite Society(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse 1:
(Fess Grandiose)
We a ton in this muthafucka,
Smart kids going dumb in this muthafucka,
Brown folk white folk and nubians,
Even asians foolin' round like some hooligans,
Little scene kids trying to squeeze in,
I'm at my leisure with some barely legals chicks,
Now here sip this PBR bitch,
While I try to tell you what a VCR is uh,
I mash till I'm seeing stars
Sorta like I won't see tomorrow,
Whoa,
Yea you know when we get scarred,
Tha whole aura of cheap beer and cheap cigars,
Whoa,
Smells like teen spirit,
We broke kids living out our broken dreams,
Taggin pics on iPhones with broken screens,
Low life in high fashion pour my drink and let's get it...
Hook:
Piled in front to back,
And we wylin' doing jumping jacks,
On ya' living room floor man fuck yo' couch,
Tell everybody it's a house party Rpt. 1x - Track Name: Nutz... Ft. Fam(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)
-
Get up and stand,
Muh-fucka don't forget to pick up ya' mans,
Right,
When they gon' give us a chance?
I'm tired of the circumstances,
Just like I'm tired,
So tired, tired of being cool,
Nothin' more sad than the pride of a fool,
Mastered mechanics with survivalist tools,
They say if you gon' play abide by the rules,
But fuck that,
My game is bush-league,
Vintage Barkley,
Shut Up and Jam,
To me the social scene is irrelevant fam,
Caz' socially I'm a negligent man,
Caz' I be on my rhythms,
On my rhymes,
Yes ma'am I'mma one man band,
Here I stand,
Fess is Grand,
And the life is Grandiose,
What I spit so Debo and Don Cheadle,
Warn people,
Wall post it, retweet it,
And if you gotta problem then you can eat cement,
Worst thing you can say is my shit mad decent,
Tweekin' frequent and still keep it in sequence,
Audacious niggas givin' hard faces,
They girl lookin',
Or should I say star gazing,
John gets mad when I start blazin',
Beyond limitations,
A strong indication,
My rise will be long awaited,
Fuckin the game wit' long penetration,
Haha,
That shit was hilarious,
I'm well engineered boy,
You are Jerry-rigged,
Ya' presence is embarrassing,
Deemed unfit for ya' area,
Huh, what!?
Say wutchu' say again,
I see ya' mouth movin',
But I can't hear ya' sayin' shit,
Muh-fucka,
Ya' betsta' know that,
It's hard for a nigga wit' good loins and gonads,
Always on the move like nomads,
But the difference is,
I never move wit' no cash....
Fucka.
Holdin' my nutz not giving a fuck what,
Let's get it in,
Holdin' my nutz not giving a fuck what,
I be posted,
Holdin' my nutz not giving a fuck what... - Track Name: Krucial x Happy Meals(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)
-
Enemies befriending me they energy is so distinctive,
Like I dont know the difference,
From real and poser niggas,
Cooking up the fixings get it for I close the kitchen,
Nourish ya' soul my niggas,
No dying,
As my numbers multiplying,
And if you factor in the coefficients,
Well you don't know logistics,
Don't even know the difference,
From creativity and acting so pretentious,
I could shit on stage and call it art,
And 'prolly get applauded by rich kids wit' college smarts,
Caz' I got a heart,
Good vibe like Marky Mark,
Thought we was back to our roots
but things fall apart,
Ya know...
I'm Sasquatch status,
You leprechauns are outta' luck,
Fuck charm nigga.
Three clover-leaf ganja bud,
When you tokin' you chokin' harder than Chicago cubs uhhhh,
I guess my success makes you the predecessor,
Shall I explain how my shit is not of lesser value,
Mixtape's got traits of a successful album,
Got breaks for fakes who be steady doubting,
Gimmie money, how come?
Caz' I'm like a falcon,
Fly high in the sky preying on the vermin,
We the terrorists but see we don't be wearing turbans,
Conservatives like us when they should be scared and nervous,
Going ham fam prepare the burgers,
Aggravated like a customer demanding service,
Ready for war unlike you I am a soldier,
Got you frightened turning whiter then Sammy Sosa...
Bitch nigga hand it over(Krucial)
(Hold up man, let me just uh, let me just sync in. Man up muh-fuckas...)
Yo,
If the games a bitch,
Then I'm the fuckin' back door man,
Six time champ fuckin' in some fresh Jordan's
Spit on it and dick her raw,
Cum quick she lick it off,
No pity for shitty draw',
Swag-less individuals,
I'm all grown up and totally focused,
And to think,
I was a kid who rode on the short bus,
Wit' no fuss,
Shit I loved being a special kid,
Especially since my helper bitch,
Had big breast-est-ses,
Breast strokes the best stroke ya' bets know,
I don't accept those wannabe rap Depeche Mode's,
Slept on since about Oct' 6 wit' hot shit,
While niggas fruity as the tropics,
Non sense gotta' cease,
Family gotta' eat so I blue collar labor like " Yo' boss we gotta leak"...
I'm winning muthafucka Charlie sheen,
And obviously,
Against them odds slimmer than the lottery,
You salty,
It's funny you as whack as Godfrey,
Fix that frown boy don't be acting awnry,
Gnarly,
Erry'bodies a skater,
before the Fiasco,
You was just a hater,
And now,
You follow more than investigators,
Got a million odd flows and I'm just guesstimating,
I'm sayin',
Ya' rappin' skills remind me of daffodils,
And toddlers running around eating on Happy Meals...
Fucka - Track Name: All-City Ft. Impolite Society(Prod by. Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse 1:
(Fess Grandiose)
My life my life my life my life...
Is a never ending story wit' no conclusion(duh),
From the world I'm secluded,
All inclusive,
While you,
Stuck wondering how I'm movin'
How I'm doin' other shit,
Fuck profit,
For the love of it uh,
I mean,
I love profit I be hustling,
On the hush tho' (Shhh),
Night rumbling,
Toil and troubling,
Beats boiling hot,
While yours is bubbling,
Bitch its no other than,
Grandiose bouncin' like trapeze artists,
When it's time to get ugly I get repulsive,
But all for the sake of greater,
Then let my heart attack on the mic,
Pacemaker, whoa,
Stay hatin',
I orbit like space stations,
You made no game progress,
Caz' you ain't save data,
Nerd...
OK fuck what you heard,
Fess Chicago-ing,
And still fuck wit' tha' burbs...
Homewood, Hyde Park chillin',
Now we up in Logan Square,
Straight chillin',
Turn round to Wicker Park,
You know we loungin',
Fam in the hundreds tho',
Straight clownin',
If you know me,
Then you know I'm All-City,
From tha' Burbs to the Go,
Yea you know they all wit' me,
Say what,
We bona fide All-City,
From tha' Burbs to the Go,
Yea you know they all wit' me - Track Name: The Rotation...(Prod. by Jeals and Fess Grandiose)
-
Assemble the cypher,
And speak on life's cycles,
Perditions not mention in the circle of success,
In this paradox called the game,
Niggas words get paraphrased,
Just to hold a share of fame,
A pair of dames told me,
Don't un-box Pandora,
Stick to what you know,
Don't be a explorer,
See when it comes to change,
They so afraid of it,
Could go around the world,
But remain in they radius,
Same shit,
Same rotations,
What goes comes around to the same location,
Life's a million circles,
Like motor gears revolving,
All in rotation different modes of operation,
Habits evolve as the clock spins faster,
Runnin' laps round town to time lapses,
My old circle of friends,
Down played my purpose to win,
Like fuckin' hard work is a sin,
You see,
These thoughts runnin' round and round my head,
Takin' drags from what was passed to the left,
Loopin' through the city,
Gotta' support the round the clock hustle,
Even when it's windy in the city...
Life goes round,
Money circulates,
Then the pussy come round,
Drama cycle through,
Circles of trust get easily broken,
Spinnin' crazy,
Though not in circular motion,
My circumference,
Alive with substance,
As the real goes round,
Fakes droppin' through tha' holes,
The highs come round,
Same goes for the lows,
The rotation,
In the Chi we go round... - Track Name: Freshadelic(Prod by. Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse 1:
Muthafucka what happened to new millennium talk?
Fuck that,
Sir Grandiose and the heart is so sinister,
Got you all nauseous,
Cryin' screamin' awe shit,
When I start fire like a arson,
It's awesome and radical (totally),
Like hippies on the Capital,
Throw out the peace treaty,
If we needed to get drammactical uh,
Any nigga get it giving the wrong eye,
Fess been shakin' moves since a small fry,
Caz' I'm that nice,
That Illa-Noise,
That citizen to show you how to get it boy,
Fill tha' void,
Till you bum niggas either,
Get a life,
Get employed,
Or get serious...
Not feelin' it,
Then don't even ride mine,
I'm well built,
On all clearances,
And guidelines,
Caz' I'm that clean,
That cool,
That rude,
So don't tell me how to act dude...
Hook:
I'm Freshadelic,
See,
I'm so Freshadelic,
I'm sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this nigga,
Becaz' I'm Freshadelic,
See,
Too Freshadelic,
Sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this
Verse 2:
I'm so alive,
Yet I'm heavily sedated,
While you caught up in ya' studies,
I'm gettin' edu-ma-cated,
Never let my shoulders carry dead weight,
Though my head straight,
That kush put a strain on my headache,
First I was tongue kissin' the clouds,
High came down,
Now I'm finger fuckin' the ground,
You don't feel me though,
To speak more literal,
Fess get tipsy,
Till I'mma hot mess like Brittney,
Dig me,
Now catch me drunk singin' stories like a musical,
Still choppin' down mountains,
I'mma voodoo child,
Uh,
So live and unrestricted,
As I proceed to get your hands high as you can lift them,
No thug life,
But I be thug like,
Where the Henny?,
Fuck a Bud Light,
Are you serious!?
Consider me a feast,
While you just a luncheon,
Grand turn ya' function rambunctious...
Hook:
I'm Freshadelic,
See told you,
I'm so Freshadelic,
I'm sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this nigga,
Becaz' I'm Freshadelic,
See,
Too Freshadelic,
Sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this
Verse 3:
No doubt Fess hold closeouts in markets,
In times of hardships,
Streets is hauntin',
Don't get caught in,
Conflicts of talkin',
End up in coffin,
Happens often,
I'mma rapper flauntin' subtle,
So double,
Extraterrestrial,
Like a pair of martians,
In arms of a angel,
Like Sarah McLaughlin,
Nigga ya' whole show is like charity auction mayne,
Nobody biddin' on ya product,
Caz' ya product whack,
True knowledge of a scholar,
Wit' no college jack,
So acknowledge that I'm rockin' you,
Though I'm still feelin' kinda' hostile and moody,
These rappers turned fruity,
Talkin' how they wanna' go and frolic in the wind,
While I'm like a cooped up alcoholic wit' tha' pen man,
Not a boss but ain't a pitty-pat hustla',
Pocket flats but I'll never lackluster...
Hook:
I'm Freshadelic,
Nigga, look,
I'm so Freshadelic,
I'm sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this nigga,
Becaz' I'm Freshadelic,
Told you,
I'm Freshadelic,
Sayin' I'm so fly I got motion sickness,
Don't ask why but I'm suppose to rip this - Track Name: Fame Ft. Guilty Simpson(Prod by. Fess Grandiose)
-
Verse: 1
(Fess Grandiose)
Fame,
Tha' hardest form of recognition,
Hard on those intolerant of repetition,
They say the most infamous are found of fame,
And those that fear not yet start at shame,
The game,
Gave you fame for that play riddle gimmick flow,
The principles the same as it was sixty years ago,
It's pivotal,
At least get residuals,
Nowadays the figures low,
Thanks to digital,
Fame chaser,
What tha' fuck you rappin' for?
It's a war and you the enemies whore,
Suckin' up for a buck and half,
Plus you a swallower,
And I don't give a fuck about ya' thousand something followers,
Ya' fame not even worth a dollar,
Sad,
Do Internet celebrities get the last laugh?
Or just the last half,
Tidy up and put ya' swag inna' trash bag cuz...
Hook:
I don't really care that you famous,
No,
Caz really you are lame as fuck nigga. Rpt. 3x
I don't really care,
Nope,
I don't really care, - Track Name: Another Dilla Beat Pt. 3(Prod. by J Dilla)
-
Here we go,
Been a fein' to the stereo,
Since Saturday cartoons and Honey Nut Cheerios,
No miracles this hard work,
Labor like yard work,
When one go down we all hurt and handicapped,
I ain't spitting them candy raps for them sweet ass hipsters with the fanny packs,
Grand is back,
Matter of fact dog I never left,
Took control of my sound and put the raps to rest,
Yup,
Now I'm bashing the tactics that most of these bitch-made rappers intact wit',
Loyal to my fam unlike Latoya Jackson,
Onna' call for action not casting for actors,
Muthafucka I'mma one man army,
Betsta' say ya prayers can't no man harm me no,
The racketeer in the illest tennis shoes,
Better gimmie' all your money for I run up in ya business wit a,
Band of gorillas,
Gon' bananas for the scrilla',
This jungle music you get trampled with the big foot,
It's festivals and grandiose events uh,
Fuck a critic and a amateurs input,
Professional you hearing like a congressional,
Raising the decibels with grade A testicles,
Till' I'm living inna' major way,
My fam is black and white,
No shades of grey,
But uh,
My money green get paid to play,
And I'm feeling ill living day to day fucker,
Flows drive harder than a trucker,
Triple threat,
Lethal weapon like Dan Glover,
While you decrease ya' value in verses to stack quicker,
I be shackled down in proverbial black prison,
Never like that nigga,
No,
There's bold differences,
My soul has risen,
No global positioning,
Holla at ya' boy,
Caz ain't no time to spit the knowledge,
Chicago Illinois a prime example of the problem,
Since money moves why sit and think about it?
Solid,
Monetary growth,
Yo yo yo yo yo yo...
Who got more style than Grand do? - Track Name: Extraordinaire(Prod. by Fess Grandiose)**Bonus Track**
-
Verse 1:
I'm super duper,
Wonka swag,
Oompaa loompa,
I'm the future and I could do ya',
Hard and fast or Karma Sutra,
Disco murderers,
You a hipster and you ain't heard of us??
Shit by time you get hip you gon' be late mayne,
But for your intrest I'm gon' be straight mayne,
Fess campaigning dope set list with fresh ass bangers,
Rather I'm verbally spraying or mercilessly turning tables,
Spinning that funk shit,
For these chumps punk as Henry Rollins,
Keep the money I need the power,
Extraordinary gentleman the league is ours bitch...
Hook:
See I'm sorta rare,
Beat rock extraordinaire
Extraordinaire(Extraordinaire)
So extra ordinary go Rpt 1x
Gotta get it go,
Gotta get it yo,
So don't be mad at me,
When I get established lavishly,
Showing you real magic you haven't seen before,
The mainstream made the scene a new trend of this generation,
Erry'body tryin' to be innovative,
But whats a sketch to a illustration huh?
You a fig-mentation you holding a crown that really don't exist,
I still go against though you really won't persist,
Just be forced to admit Fess really on his shit whoa,
Hate some, but fear none,
Sicker than H1, N1 son,
Come hard or you won't survive,
Fess so so def so funkdafied...
Hook:
See I'm sorta rare,
Beat rock extraordinaire
Extraordinaire(Extraordinaire)
So extra ordinary go Rpt 1x
(You jingling baby),
Go head baby
(You jingling baby),
Go head baby
(You jingling baby),
Go head baby
(You jingling baby)
Ha ha ha ha,
Oh so,
Supa-dupa-fragelistic-espy-alla Grandiose,
Is the dopest nigga whoa,
Back on my beat rock shit,
Never staying packed inna' meat locker,
Meaning you can chill on all that beef shit,
Insecurity is a strong weakness huh,
Thought I told ya poser,
I'm at new heights nigga fuck ya growth spurt,
Yea I'm grinding harder than a lap dance,
Real hard bitch ready for the action,
Hook:
See I'm sorta rare,
Beat rock extraordinaire
Extraordinaire(Extraordinaire)
So extra ordinary go Rpt 1x
