Artist: RZA f/ Allah Real, Masta Killa
Album:  Grits (S)
Song:   Grits (Premix)
Typed by: X-Calibur, Tha Masta

[Hook: Allah Real over girl speaking]
When I was small
We had nothing at all
We used to eat Grits, for dinner
It was pain, almost drive a man insane
what we could find for to survive another day
but I said now...

[RZA]
Boy I wish they ain't really pleather
I wish Ol' Dirt was here

An old killa bee once hummed me a tune
Stay up at night, don't sleep on ya moon
Wu-Tang in the cut, can I get the "SUUUU!"?
We Gaten/Staten, plus the Brooklyn Zu
Money Manhatten, the Gods is leanin' in Medina
This Earth on Jamaica Avenue, thought I seen her
Three/fourth covered, supreme beloved
I respect those wizes that cookin' like their mothers
I love my dunns that bury they guns
We got verbal missles for your superficial issues
My darts whistle {*whistles a missle-like sound*}
Rips through ya air then tear through ya ear tissue
Toxy off that tropical, I'm Glocko Poppin' yo
But tonight, I don't wanna pop a ho

[Hook x0.5]

[Masta Killa]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, yeah
Oh yeah.. come on.. yeah...

Young shorties in my hood started hustlin'
Packin' bags at the neighbourhood associate
Growin' up, not as fortunate to have the fly shit
I'm too young, no jobs'd hire me legit
You walkin' down the street with ya gun in ya hand
Drinkin, thinkin' of a masterplan
Your Old Earth can't afford what ya friends got
So you roll up to the spot, with ya thing 'pon cock
And it seems worth the takin', stomach achin'
Morning star veggie bacon go good with the Grits
The Polo fit matchin' real fly with the Wallabee kicks
Kangol knit, eighty-six deuce flicks
Wild and untamed, snatch chain on the train
Jump off, the cops fiasco, duckin' Rosco
Bag shorty at the Taco Bell in high school

you hear it?

[Hook x0.5]