Naughty By Nature:Guard Your Grill
From LyricWiki
This song is performed by Naughty By Nature.
Intro: Kay Gee
*phone dialling*
(Hello?)
Hello, it's '91. Buckle up, guard your grill! Hee hee
(Har what the fuck?)
Has this ever happened to you?
Can you name this tune?
These victims knew how to guard they grill, this would've never happened!
Verse 1: Treach
I put two and two together and I came up with four
You are forever, forgot, forbid, shouldn't have to say much more
I been thru more crews than a flute, yeah I'll show ya
This is so damned scrap I betcha bro don't know ya
You tried to get cool and say peace, save that peace for a jigsaw
Stay back and watch a real MC get raw
I never know, never know when another will come to diss this
But if and whenever they come I'm runnin this merry fist miss
I shooker the crook and shaker the fake to get like a quick stick
It's just another one dud and is dismissed
Kitty guard your grill, well be for real, you ain't built
I'm silly-ho smackin MC's on a ninety degree tilt
The reason that it's tilted cos you're guilty, too hard to guard
It's not you're tryin too gay, you're tryin too hard
How hard can your guard be, I say wuz up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, yup!
Chorus:
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I ain't the type to give up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I smoke first, so what's up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
Put em up, you ain't tough
Guard your grill, knuckle up!
Verse 2: Treach
I give em much business, an Aspirin
Damn, I love a glass chin
What are ya askin for mercy, I'm laughin
Huh, you know the game, you know the name and you know the rep
You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach
There's no sleepin, no nottin, no rest and hey
No snoozin, no dozin, no f'in way
Heapin things up like a Coke cup
Wind me up but y'all I gets the low wits tha rough stuff
And after enough to cut ya off a piece, still have nuff
Then go around to them and him because ??? ???
I I got posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper
Use to couldn't take em out cos they was rowdy hip-hoppers
There's so much gold for roast, the ??? don't knock us
My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper
At school I had a lot, I filled with VCR's and Vodka
I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter
Back then I wore briefs, tella starter, gettin hotter
Then I grew yea long so I had to switch to boxers
How hard can your guard be, I say what's up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, duck
Chorus
Verse 3: Treach
I don't lay, I lie, who knows like Pinnochio
Never been to Tokyo or *?Keeper's Day Bolochio?*
Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard
I got the fliest ride out here, the '91 bus card
So callin me for a ride ain't the answer
Huh, you want a lift ya better pick up a transfer
Sayin we will go for one cut, now we're dead
Oh yaeh, that's bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled
Now how wrong can you be to think we play
Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day
So now ya feelin real low, ya no flow-crow
You slow hobo, stiffer than Robo
Oh, here's another side of bein real quick
You might speak it fulla cracks, but you still ain't shhh...
So don't try at those same style battle cry
I rock the U-train, the routes that I battle by
I listen to sister shit, it til they quite slow
No matter that white rap, shoot a pharoah with a psycho
Put down ya handgun, up which'cha hands son
Look cops they come, I ain't the damned one
I was only three steps from a peace prize
Pieces laid, piece of his eyes and his left thigh
Knuckle up, put em up, yeah guard your grill
And that's comin from Illtown, down the hill
Chorus
Outro:
(Vin Rock) This goes out to the 118th Street Posse
My man J Scratch in the house, y'knowhutI'msayin?
And oh yaeh, pss pss pss pss
(Kay Gee) Don't forget, guard your grill, knuckle up!
(Treach) A strong what up to my man Kid Capri
(KG) This goes out to my man Jack Don
I gotta say what's up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza
(T) What's up to Clark Kent and my man Face!
(KG) This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill
Cos they know how to definitely guard they grill
(Vinny) I gotta say what's up to my man Dre and Easy in the house
(T) This goes out to my man Tamere
He's definitely in here
What's up to my homey Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers
Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC's out
there
Peace goes out!
(Vinny) Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here
PEACE!
*phone dialling*
(Hello?)
Hello, it's '91. Buckle up, guard your grill! Hee hee
(Har what the fuck?)
Has this ever happened to you?
Can you name this tune?
These victims knew how to guard they grill, this would've never happened!
Verse 1: Treach
I put two and two together and I came up with four
You are forever, forgot, forbid, shouldn't have to say much more
I been thru more crews than a flute, yeah I'll show ya
This is so damned scrap I betcha bro don't know ya
You tried to get cool and say peace, save that peace for a jigsaw
Stay back and watch a real MC get raw
I never know, never know when another will come to diss this
But if and whenever they come I'm runnin this merry fist miss
I shooker the crook and shaker the fake to get like a quick stick
It's just another one dud and is dismissed
Kitty guard your grill, well be for real, you ain't built
I'm silly-ho smackin MC's on a ninety degree tilt
The reason that it's tilted cos you're guilty, too hard to guard
It's not you're tryin too gay, you're tryin too hard
How hard can your guard be, I say wuz up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, yup!
Chorus:
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I ain't the type to give up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
I smoke first, so what's up
Guard your grill, knuckle up
Put em up, you ain't tough
Guard your grill, knuckle up!
Verse 2: Treach
I give em much business, an Aspirin
Damn, I love a glass chin
What are ya askin for mercy, I'm laughin
Huh, you know the game, you know the name and you know the rep
You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach
There's no sleepin, no nottin, no rest and hey
No snoozin, no dozin, no f'in way
Heapin things up like a Coke cup
Wind me up but y'all I gets the low wits tha rough stuff
And after enough to cut ya off a piece, still have nuff
Then go around to them and him because ??? ???
I I got posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper
Use to couldn't take em out cos they was rowdy hip-hoppers
There's so much gold for roast, the ??? don't knock us
My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper
At school I had a lot, I filled with VCR's and Vodka
I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter
Back then I wore briefs, tella starter, gettin hotter
Then I grew yea long so I had to switch to boxers
How hard can your guard be, I say what's up?
Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, duck
Chorus
Verse 3: Treach
I don't lay, I lie, who knows like Pinnochio
Never been to Tokyo or *?Keeper's Day Bolochio?*
Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard
I got the fliest ride out here, the '91 bus card
So callin me for a ride ain't the answer
Huh, you want a lift ya better pick up a transfer
Sayin we will go for one cut, now we're dead
Oh yaeh, that's bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled
Now how wrong can you be to think we play
Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day
So now ya feelin real low, ya no flow-crow
You slow hobo, stiffer than Robo
Oh, here's another side of bein real quick
You might speak it fulla cracks, but you still ain't shhh...
So don't try at those same style battle cry
I rock the U-train, the routes that I battle by
I listen to sister shit, it til they quite slow
No matter that white rap, shoot a pharoah with a psycho
Put down ya handgun, up which'cha hands son
Look cops they come, I ain't the damned one
I was only three steps from a peace prize
Pieces laid, piece of his eyes and his left thigh
Knuckle up, put em up, yeah guard your grill
And that's comin from Illtown, down the hill
Chorus
Outro:
(Vin Rock) This goes out to the 118th Street Posse
My man J Scratch in the house, y'knowhutI'msayin?
And oh yaeh, pss pss pss pss
(Kay Gee) Don't forget, guard your grill, knuckle up!
(Treach) A strong what up to my man Kid Capri
(KG) This goes out to my man Jack Don
I gotta say what's up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza
(T) What's up to Clark Kent and my man Face!
(KG) This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill
Cos they know how to definitely guard they grill
(Vinny) I gotta say what's up to my man Dre and Easy in the house
(T) This goes out to my man Tamere
He's definitely in here
What's up to my homey Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers
Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC's out
there
Peace goes out!
(Vinny) Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here
PEACE!
External links
iTunes: buy Guard Your Grill
Amazon: search for… 
FoxyTunes Planet: search for… 
Hype Machine: search for… 
Last.fm: search for… 
MusicBrainz: search for… 
Pandora: search for… 
Wikipedia: search for… 