MF Grimm - “Do It For the Kids”
[Emcee(s): MF Grimm]
[Producer(s): Rob Swift]
[Sample (Melody): Bobby Hutcherson - “Montara” (0:53)]

[Intro: MF Grimm]
Going out to my n***a Rob Swift for having the faith in me. I’ma show n***as East Coast is back, and all that other shit is dead. I represent for Manhattan, I rhyme for the dead. Time to set it

[Verse 1: MF Grimm]
TEC-9 dreams and MAC-11 wishes
Infrared is beaming on the target, making sure there is no misses
Your funeral, you know who’s blowing kisses at your widow
It sound fucked up, but your widow’s doing ditto, kiddo
“Get with me.” On your death, she didn’t dwell
You’re living up in Heaven, but I know you’re mad as Hell
No one knows I killed you except you
(And we all know a dead man can’t tell (Shhhh))
Homicides in the dark, can’t trace the bullet
Pick up the shell, dug the lead out your fucking heart
Shaking gates in Heaven because she’s fucking me
Swinging on God ‘cause you need Heaven keys to get to me
Your spirit ain’t shit to me. Kid, step to me
You’re history, ghostbuster ass-kicking victory
When it come to hardcore, I am epitome of
Evil, so don’t pull stunts like Knievel
Brainstorm
[Verse 2: MF Grimm]
Violence in the belly of The Beast won’t cease, I’ve packed
A piece since Lee’s was worn permanently creased
Far from weak, not too many better. Hardcore
Is color black, but I’ll shine like patent leather
Food for thought—hush, eat my words with your mind
Emcees are grapes, and grapes are crushed to wine
A deadly breed, no fad or bad seed. You’ll never
Forget me like the Jews’ll never forget Hitler’s bad deeds
Brain cells are blown like a bike tire. In nights
Escape the mental hell by running through the verbal fire
I wanted friends to see me at my best, but
I lost a lot of friends in violent crimes in the process
My attitude’s a mess, I like drama
Forget about my problems, I’ll smoke a lot of scama
I have few things to live for, but even more to
Die for, my n***as out the street is what I strive for

[Verse 3: MF Grimm]
To die unheard, I won’t grant it. Six feet
Under this planet, unknown, I can’t stand it
Platinum don’t mean shit when you’re perpetrating
Someone else’s life, and their life ain’t legit. How
We living? We’re living Day By Day
Ain’t no telling on Earth how long you get to stay
Microphone friction with diction near speakers cause
Feedback, birds flee, black, when you attack or
Repeat heated words I speak, weak beat
Strong vocals, no question, The Beast delete
Grimm’s voice is elite. Everyone loves
A winner, but what happen when a winner meets defeat?
Nuclear thoughts, boom, radiation, termination
Clouds of mushrooms spell doom to all creations
Fuck World War I or World War II, see?
‘Cause rappers gotta deal with World War Me
And World War Me equals World War III. We could
Rhyme or either fight, kid, so what it’s gonna be?
[Outro: MF Grimm]
This is going out to my n***a Jay Black. You’re my n***a, always will. To my n***a Big Vito, Kirk, Punk, D Smooth, Salim, my whole family. Y’all know what time it is. All these n***as out here fronting. You know what time it is. Real n***as do real things. The real n***as are here, so run in fear. Hahahaha, motherfucker