D.I.Y.M. - Darwin's Waiting Room

How many mc’s must get dissed?

Yo, motherfucker let me speak on this

I be that lyricist, pugilist with an educated fist

Evolutionist forced to exist on a black list

Pissed and dismissed, I resist to play the backseat

No boy from Backstreet, I’m intellectually elite

My mind moves faster than Michael Johnson at a track meet

Stepping over those under me like concrete

Smaller than gnomes, shatter your thoughts like brittle bones

Crushing feeble domes like El Nino did to mobile homes

Lamp posts get ripped apart when I envade with my tirade

Like Cat in the Hat during the Macy’s Day Parade

Worthy of an accolade instead portrayed as a charade

Conveyed as an Al Jolson with a mammy serenade

Guilty of being white and out of step like Minor Threat

But I’m a major threat not willing to forgive and forget

Judge me on skills not my color or race

Judge me on skills not my color or race

Judge me on skills not my color or race

Judge me on skills, say that shit to my face

Say that shit to my face

Say that shit to my face

Say that shit to my face

Say that shit to my face

Grimm, my pseudonym, I’m an mc not a singer

Put more dents in the game than the face of Wayne Hyzienga

Scarlet Lettered, fettered as a wigger, just a wannabe

Beset with every epithet, can’t get the best of me People used to giggle and laugh, clear a path

I’m over coming obstacles like Jeremy McGrath

Those who used to raise an eyebrow, kowtow

Had no respect for you then, got no respect for you now

My spectacular vernacular suspends disbelief

You went from verbose to comatose, silent as the chief

Our time is brief, I hope no one forgets me

I’ve got goals to achieve before I leave like Gretzky

But I’ll never retire until I see this thing through

To imbue my point of you, challenging you like K2

My forte is to foray with the words I say

So clear the way motherfucker cause I’m here to stay