J.R. Writer - Grill 'Em lyrics

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Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em)

Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill 'em (grill e'm)

Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill 'em

Grill 'em, grill 'em, don't stop

This that get 'em sound (sound)

This that get it down (down)

This that two step, we don't shake or spin around (no)

This that pick a clown, size 'em up, try ya luck

Playa-hate, grill 'em down, let me see you twist ya frown

Verse 1:

This that hard for real, off the charts my nillz

Soon as you get to the lot ock (what) start to grill

Show that mark a deal and you got the heart of steel

Scared a clown, stare 'em down while the nigga park his wheels (Do it)

Then head to the club to show 'em you a party wrecker (wrecker)

Grill the bouncer cuz he tryna charge you extra (Charge me extra)

But next minute he letting in a mob of heifers (What)

And wanna give you a hastle at that Don detecter

Search and pat ya wear, like a fag and queer (queer)

Give that fag a stare, have that little cracker scared (scared)

If he talkin' 'bout you can't wear ya hat in here

And that shit match ya gear (grill 'em, grill 'em)

This ain't made for playas in the club wavin' paper (nope)

This is for those stone-cold playa haters

Who just playa-hate, spot the spot, place the place

And quick to lay a scrape or scuff in ya Bathing Apes (Oh)

See I be on my D-I-P

Cut you off while you dancing with that P-Y-T (Come here)

Grill a bartender cuz he wanna see I.D.

And they won't let you in that damn V.I.P.

Grill 'em

Hook:

This that get 'em sound (sound)

This that get it down (down)

This that two step, we don't shake or spin around (no)

This that pick a clown, size 'em up, try ya luck

Playa-hate, grill 'em down, let me see you twist ya frown

Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em)

Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em)

Don't stop, grill 'em (grill 'em) don't stop, grill' em

Grill 'em, grill 'em, don't stop

Verse 2:

This that mobster shit (right) this Tupacalypse (right)

This that get in the club bub and pop some shit (huh)

This that I'm here right yeah watch ya bitch

He got, I ain't got, hate on 'em cuz he rockin' it

What this nigga think (grill 'em) we don't feel this chimp (grill 'em)

I don't feel this chimp (grill 'em) we got bigger nth's (grill 'em)

(Grill 'em, grill 'em) if he dipped in mink (What)

We goin' wild and push the crowd 'til he spill his drink (Do it)

Relax you better scrap (scrap)

Look I keep the piece (Uh-huh)

We ain't tryna keep the peace you can go ahead with that (Go 'head)

We got Deserts, Macs, that'll leave you dead and flat

Fat to skinny, small to tall dogs, Spud Webb to Shaq (whatever)

Act and get stupid, scrappy let's do it

Hands up if the DJ put the scratch to ya music

Erratic and lose it (lose it) oh no, whoa yo

Go low and throw bows faster than Cupid (Hey)

That's what a thug about ('bout)

That's what thuggin' 'bout ('bout)

Show that slouch you's a bad mother (shut your mouth)

They thought it was over 'til you let the bluckers sprout

Clapped a few slugs for shouts after the club get out

Hook