G.R.A.M.S. - Jayy Grams

Yeah, yeah

183rd Street

Allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is

G.R.A.M.S., your shorty say I lay the best pipe

She batted an eye so I pitched the ball and I made her catch

Your fate attached, you must be trippin' man

You must’ve split the Xan'

Or you started raw, like you Vince McMahon

This shit clear 'til it hit the fan

But I’m a optimist, the picture half full like I’m with the fam

You niggas sharing them guns, that shit ain’t authentic

Wavin' but that arm ain’t yours, fuck, it’s a prosthetic

I’m headed to different leadership, this divine crdit

Point it then that blood get drawn but I ain’t diabetic (My B)

I rhym fetish with some ties to the town

I’m attacking the top of the tower, it’s toppling down, ayy, what’s up?

You can’t even count on the score right

Lo-fi, we built to fight in the circle like Fortnite

Like it’s Muay Thai

But even they done got extendos

Fear making more Tupacs, ain’t no Kimbos here (Yeah, look)

Spittin' holy, watch my homie ditch the doley

Roll a blunt and hit like Rollie, I cannot let her control me, geez (Real nigga

for life)

The newest fees come with enemies (Enemies)

Ain’t wasting time, bitch, it’s ten a G

And now you heard it from me

Spittin' holy, watch my homie ditch the doley

Roll a blunt and hit like Rollie, I cannot let her control me, geez (Real nigga

for life)

The newest fees come with enemies (Enemies)

Ain’t wasting time, bitch, it’s ten a G

And now you heard it from me