Artist: Your Old Droog f/ Danny Brown
Album:  Packs
Song:   Grandma Hips
Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com

[Your Old Droog]
Wagwan Foghorn Leghorn
Come Halloween, I'm the wrong one to egg on
Four Megatron limbs harmin 'em with homonyms
Far from PC, I'm VC with his arm in the rim
("HAA!") Got songs and hymns 
(What are those?) Kick a rhyme on a whim
Come for me - chance of you survivin extra slim
Like a skinny MF DOOM, it'll be next to +Grimm+
Knock you in your loose lips for poppin off at the gums
Like a packet of Eclipse, dawg you slipped 
for not recognizin YOD was god since we used to boost chips
And the box juice sips, rockin pants that swish
Then I link with rich to flip product
The product of that was utterly hypnotic
Your mind is not equipped to understand our quips
Shut up and keep -- with your grandma hips
Man, built like my auntie, hopped online 
The same joke eternally sleep tellin cats to stay woke
By doing this, I'm a neighborhood treasure
I pack some more... in just for good measure
That's a good measure, ain't it?
I can see the future and that ain't it
For tryna taint the pictures I painted
I just might go start a residency, pump it out to Grammarcy
Teacher said I was nice with the grammar, see?
Lord have mercy {*inhales then coughs*}
Thirsty, firstly known for flowin with +Finesse+ like Percee P
And goin hand to hand, can't see me man to man
Plus your man's aura's fuckin Bananarama Pandora
Y'all cats sedentary on the road to dead and buried
Practically souvenirs, haven't made a move in years
Now give me dap or a five
Old Droog the greatest rapper alive, shut the fuck up!

[Danny Brown]
Compare the flow to an avalanche
A batterram, HIV should be my acronym
Sick pen game like a Bhurka game sonogram
Born to kill, comin at ya like a porno cam
Ain't they know I smoke that +Frooty+-color +Toucan+?
Eat the pussy, get her wetter than the Hoover Dam
Ain't no need to say my name, bitch know who I am
Rappers singin in the closet like Luther Van
Get killed watchin shows like Abraham
Next I'm at your funeral doinga Shmurda dance
Want beef, aim right ya at the burger stand
Pull the burner, put holes in your cardigan
BITCH~! I'm 'bout to get the artisan
Go Son of Sam, have you shakin like Parkinson
Ain't goin in, unless my nigga sneak the Larkin in
Shoot a rapper just to help him with his marketing
("Alright now, here we go!") Don't even get me started and
One phone call, now your family we targetin
I'm out this world, my flow wacky shit depart-en-ment
I walked in, they be like, "Who let the Martian in?"
Said I'm the best, ain't a single nigga question it
Either it's the truth or these niggas disrespectin
Took it as a sign every nigga kill they self
Changing of the guard, all these wack niggaz EXIT!!!