The March

[Grouch:]

Let's do this March

We goin' on a little march y'all

Put that right foot out

They call me the Grouch, at 6'1" that's my height overall

Cuz that's a light and yell complexion though my brain never stalls

Look for rain; I revolve around this planet like I own it

Developing my style, mother fucker don't try to clone it

Yes, I hone it in my basement, you're replacement is near

If you hold the mic too long you'll get smeared like a queer

And I appear, like 39 go deep beneath the level, of the sea you seein' me

So why are you yellin' devil?

Man, I've been shovelin' that shit for hella years and I'm no rebel

But I always speak my mind when over the bass and treble

Time to face the kettle that calls that pot black back

But that's not the way to act

Then that's not the way to react

We cap lyrically, affect you spiritually

Let the music do it to your soul on a whole

[Eligh:]

I would like to know the reason why we

As an underground family always get the third degree

1000 watts of meat knocking MC's right out of their seat

Marcher on the beat with crooked feet to the concrete

4:20 is sparked on the Dark Side of the Moon

Searching for the distortion so I slide through the saloon

Hoping to catch a train to escape this brainless yield

Take this stainless steel Army qualified shield to my chest

Armed to the "T" in armor, I be a city farmer

Plantin' my seeds with a 2000 degree regulated hoe

Can't be faded though by the sleet or the snow

My crops grow

Regardless of this system-eco

Keep my ego in check like a needle to the neck of a feeble balloon speck

Always on deck

My shit never gets out of proportion

I'm a doctor of abortions

For hollow lyrics born with no spirit

If this rhyme describes your rap content then I refuse to hear it

I'll be on BB repeat

To have the media retreat

And take their seat in the fires

Heat, as we fire this fleet of hip-hop beats over oceans of space

Using weapons of bass to encase your skull

Like a glass box

I'll be the last to jock and first to rock a show with a poet I respect

Not on Star Trek but I check my grounding

By evaluating all my immediate surroundings

I know you hated my dismount while you discount this pounding

It's called cranial drowning

I'm the founding father of my survival

You can't stop the arrival

So pop the cork when the stork drops them Grapes of Wrath

Don't need to be up on calculus to calculate the math

So when my shit jocks I'll make sure my shit rocks

Smokin' that nuclear bomb I'll die known as spinny-ox

[Grouch:]

They call me the Grouch at 20/20 that's my sight overall

My vision never fails, I prevail and watch you fall

Small people try to act as if they're equal but they're not

Always gabbin' in your ear, offerin' somethin' they don't got

But I can spot them in a crowd of many thousand from afar

I stay away from them, like women do my car, but are

We gonna be ourselves? That's truly the question

If I catch you frontin' to me that's the end of our session

Of bein' friends; I'm seein' men fallin' deep into the cracks

So I'm peepin' into raps so I can sleep, on my back

Between the sheets; call my fleet when I awake

Forever work on music and make the beat till I... break