lirik lagu doc da mindbenda - welcome to the grindhouse
the beat is engineered around alan tew’s “the build up” chopping several portions throughout and layering heavy kicks and a 808 underneath. 808 hi hats to keep the double time in flow and a simple snare with compression and eq to make it crack. the beat is dope to me because it has elements of hard boom bap with a southern bounce but it still remains funky
[intro]
[verse 1: akbar]
well here’s a new song you probably never heard,and i got them hanging on to every word
and i want to hear my song banging on every curb, so loud until i’m probably getting on every nerve
this style is crazy,my flow’s insane,when i point and aim i can blow your brain
so they call me ak,now they playing my joint to the point where the neighbors even know my name
because my verses go harder,and i stay faded like i got a personal barber
if you hatin’ on me,waitin’ on something free you must not want to see another person go farther
so i hustle harder,you can cop anything in the hood from me
check my raps front to back,if both serial numbers match that means i’m good money,yeah i’m good money
but ya’ll look funny,a bunch of counterfeit that means your words don’t amount to sh-t
when i add them up,we can battle if you bad enough,yeah i’m down with it
i’m about to f-ck around and spit,i’m just saying you need to stop playing like an old vcr
somebody even said that hip-hop was dead but i know cpr
and i spit strychnine when i kick rhymes i got more sick lines than an er
plus i work with doc,we about to put the whole city on lock,let me tell you where we are
let me tell you where we are…grindhouse
[verse 2: pugs atomz]
cold in it like ice in the freezer,broke yo spirit ebenezer
hands up,crowd pleaser,drinks on you used your visa
until we leanin’ tower of pisa,he’s good man charlie brown
pugs atomz own the town with akbar,that mindbenda
that tarantino of the grindhouse,ain’t talkin’ no teenage party
might lose a limb,don’t make me hurt n0body
land of lincoln and i’m thinking more dusable, you should grovel
dames yellin’ out bravo,from here to cabo i’m liable, van gogh with a banjo
and a bad ho like a farmer tho’,planting them crops and taking ears
ya’ll the corniest kernals i heard in years,that’s bad jokes and breast strokes
in blood pools,i’ll m-ff you that’s my mic i cuff too
on the south side they snuff you and puff two,three point play
i murder with the line,hurray,that’s all swish like my sneaks
it ain’t cold if no repeats or retweets in these streets on these beats i beast
[verse 3: griffen]
it’s a line of fiends outside the grindhouse
they yelling(no,no,no,no)r.i.p. amy winehouse
i got them bags of that boom bap crackin’ though
the last dragon with that sho’nuff after glow
after shows you doze,i’m in them studios
signing death certificates with truly yours
so cold i’m hot, i stole your thot
gave her back like photoshop
robocop the p-ssy,took me no time to get it
when it’s on i’m relentless,stoned microphone menace
turn the audience to witnesses,the stage is a crime scene
oh we double timing this,hit the high beams
lean on the track out of this world bringing it back
down to earth,pound the dirt,eat an emcee when i need a snack
other than that i just feed them facts,i ain’t losing no even match
i ain’t believing them weak -ss raps,f-ck them all ’til we collapse
echo that, loud duff, i go deaf on that
coming in the game thru the window,i love how motherf-ckers slept on that
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