M.F. Grimm - Emotions feat. B-1

[@Rondu_saurus_Rex]

This song deserves a million likes and views, what the neck is wrong with youtube?😮

[@KipHopa]

This just became one of my favorite songs ever

[@socillizt4life]

“I fuck up shit like CARRIE did to prom’ night”.....,this tracks got countless punches,beats nasty as fuk aswell🔥🔥🎤🎤🔥🔥

[@hondaaccord3368]

‘From the streets I got mental war scars’ oooooooo man

[@roow]

this track is so sick

[@jetjaguar5200]

Rip Zev MIC will always rep you and be your brothers

[@Wilizm]

I wish I could find the version where B-1 saids "There's a Lyrical Indictment and the charges are pending".

[@PaulHaverman]

Was that line used in an alternate or early version of the track? I only know of 2 versions of this track and never heard that specific line being used.

[@Wilizm]

Paul Haverman Yeah I think it was a early version. He started the 3rd verse and said that in it.

[@Wilizm]

Paul Haverman in the version I’m talking about, he said “I got connects from Queens to Manhattan, pockets stay fat and niggas ratting, got it hit William ‘Braton’? (I think that’s how you spell it) cause he think it won’t happen”

[@PaulHaverman]

@@Wilizm where / how did you hear this particular version?

[@Wilizm]

Paul Haverman on KZbin. The account probably was suspended or video removed or something.

[@Neo_Chayanne]

Underground hip hop secret weapon!

[@djsixgrams]

CLASSIC ...

[@angelixnl]

Real nice uploads, thx bro

[@EyaoPantah]

[Hook 1: MF Grimm] Who will survive in World War III? (None!) Who got a style that come close to me? (None!) Niggas screaming “battle,” who step to me? (None!) To all you fakers, it’s time to meet your maker [Verse 1: MF Grimm] My brain’s a freeway broken up to intersections Ambidextrous, into music, also into drug connections In the industry and the streets, I am the man Take royalties by these kis, that’s 6000 grams Now Grimm Reap’s legit, so I don’t drip or hit ‘em off To my murder buddies, then I let ‘em flip it You could tell a crew by their shoes, we wear ostrich No lizards, diamonds on our neck and packing baby Deserts Rappers think they’re all that and want to go to war Fuck him, his crew, and everything they stand for I’m the black Ted Turner, street money Earner, United States flag burner Battling me is some deadly shit, so come Equipped with rhymes, guns, and two extra clips Aim for the head ‘cause you don’t wear a vest there Bullet makes a window, your brain needed fresh air Manhattan’s evilest mind, platinum turnout Before a nigga beat me, please, the Sun’ll burn out Trapped on a planet of pain and perpetrators That you call Earth, but I call Hell’s Equator So it’s gonna be a long night ‘Cause I’ll fuck shit up like Carrie did to prom night Leaving out the drug game and enter rap on The top [Hook 2: Sample with Scratches by Dr. Butcher] “The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock” - Sample from O.C. - “Time’s Up” (x9) Hook 1: B-1] Who will survive in World War III? (None!) Who got a style that come close to me? (None!) Niggas screaming “battle,” who step to me? (None!) To all you fakers, it’s time to meet your maker [Verse 2: B-1] From The streets, I got mental war scars. Back in the Days, I used to want to be a Juice Crew All-Star But, yo, my dream didn’t fade. Now me touching the mic Is like the Knicks getting Jordan on a trade One represents for the scramblers and money-handlers The type of shit that goes on in the streets is scandalous I’m from Northside Jamaica, the money-raker I’m trying to get it up so I can buy an acre. It’s The ill nigga One, and, where I’m from, shit is real Guzzling ale, waiting for the next sale Sometimes shots are fired, fiends are wired, sending Decoy buyers ‘cause they always want to try us. I’m from Right next door, so I’m your neighbor with rusty razors 800 pagers and other assorted flavors-it’s a Queens thing. I love the money the fiends bring Then jet to the strip joint to see the freaks in the G-string I got connects from Queens to Manhattan, pockets stay Fat and niggas ratting, mics get laced like satin Taxes I’m evading in my quest to get paid To God I pray, then blew him with the rusty tip of my blade ‘Cause I’m stressed, but with the gift of poetry I’ve been blessed So I’ll never give the paper and the ink rest Leaving out the drug game to enter rap on The top [Verse 3: MF Grimm] Ayyo, there’s only One way to go out, and that’s with a bang. It’s a Fucked-up world, so I do fucked-up things, and I’m Born angry, I won’t die nice, the black Vincent Price, preserve my brain with Einstein’s on dry ice Conflicters think the pain contract boa constrictors Style appetite devour humans in sight like Lecter Battle of the flow of the maniacs, but the maniacs Lack the bigger brain I pack, and plus their flow is wack Beating me in my world is hard to do (But why?) ‘Cause my shit is fat, and that’s hard to chew (Oh) And even harder to swallow So bleed like Creed, yeah, die like Apollo, and all Who follow, bullet attack the brain and leave the head hollow Here today, but just like that, you’re dead tomorrow Leave the drug game and enter rap music on The top [Hook 2: Sample with Scratches by Dr. Butcher] “The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock” - Sample from O.C. - “Time’s Up” (x9)

[@MrMLD1972]

👍🏾

[@captinweestain526]

Hard