Against the Grain
Hip-Hop/Rap
May 13, 2008
79
Against the Grain Music Video

Against the Grain Lyrics

Watch out for your friends
Ayo ayo you you you got that thing for me huh?
You thought I was layin'? no no I ain't layin' I'm takin'
You don't understand? You confused?
How bout if I stuff your fuckin' head through that window
That would unconfuse you right?
Thought I was layin' give me the fuckin' money come on

I'm blamin' lame ass rappers frontin for famin'
I should open up a casino for all the games you playin'
I'm sayin', everyday in a different namin'
Plus they homos now, big black niggas flamin'
We stressin', that you don't be stressi'n us
And if you GS and GS than don't be B.S'n us
Just be B.S'n logically
Not like that we be guessin'
Because the truth need no modesty
Cristal to spring water, Bacardi whateva
What it is, is what it is
We can party together
You know how the game goes
Whenever your name grows
But still love is love fuckin' the same hoes
Against the grain goes the souped up rapper
He spittin' venom
So now we gotta get wit him
And do the ten thing
Frightenin', while his men cling
Then watch blood extract out his ass like ginseng
It all ends with, all of his mens hit
And now our future friends shit
Strictly forensic
But that's the life we livin'
Drivin', that's how we driven
Strivin, you must be robin
'Cause I ain't given
Shoot ya guns

[Chorus]
Now when we bless this with precise shit
That we suffice with
We keep your mentals lit
Now when we bless this

I see ya overly concernin'
Ya insides burnin'
Mad at the fact Sauce is earin'
With more niggas than Mark Furman
Ya never learnin, never been so determined
Not to be concerned with ya sermon
Wheels of fortune still turnin'
Still street caviar remains untouched
For Sauce Money cheeseburger deluxe
Screamin' what the ******(crooks?) feenin'
Dough we rake off
While you hailin' cabs
We, taxi for take off
Fake crews and units is dubbin
Get ya whole clan wiped out, no scrubbin'
For the decription givin, chapstick flappin'
Pistol whipin', nigga rappin'
Sell arms to keep 'em clappin'
Gung ho chicks spueeze for me
Crazy g's for me, to see cheese come easily for me
In the same arenas
Ain't gotta state his name, you seen us
Sippin' on Bay Breeze's
Now we higher than Venus
Comparin' thumbs, tryin' to see who's the greenest
High strung
No relief pitcher off my tongue
Ace of the staff, Sauce back to back Cy Young

[Chorus: x4]

In the club lit
Listen to all my niggas hit
Bitches love me for this disrespectful shit
Fuck em, the only thing I'm with is large amounts,
Clear
Money the only thing that counts here
By any means like Malcolm
X marks the spot you know the outcome
Income, never outdone
Rap star, hit the stage dipped in tar
Other crews muerto
Can't fuck with this concerto
Too fecicous
So I drop new releases
Till your crew deceases
Screw your pieces, fuck you thesis
Fuck your speeches, and fuck your beef
'Cause when my crew aim, do more than brush ya teeth
It'll split your shit, when it hit your shit
If you don't want yo' shit hit
Don't forget yo' shit
We don't spar
We aimin' all niggas to Allah
When its spent
And to the nazarine if ya 85 percent
Do what I gotta
Straight shot of Jack
Ameretta, colada for my bitch in the back
Never bluffin'
Never rap for nothin'
Rap flow, don't love it
Sincerely yours
Sause motherfucka

Writer(s): TODD ERIC GAITHER, CHRISTOPHER E MARTIN
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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