Good Grief Lyrics - Persona Non Grata - Urban Dance Squad

Good morning Vietnam 

My style is triple, quadruple, damage for mc's 

I make 'em huff 'n puff like mufflers for Meineke 

Human exhaust, you wanna get lost ? 

Rhymes plus exxon ride brains like Alain Prost 

Mc clowns, I blaze towns 

I dragwheel skulls, leave with speed 'n dust cloud 

All you monkeys, donkeys, alternative junkies 

I'm strictly T-Rex, and my rap just crunche 

The jive 'n babble, throw heavy scrabble 

Sparkles plus the bubbles plus the flavor like snapple 

All you socalled rebels heavy metal cattle 

Some horses got force but I simply tame with saddle 

Hunt a stunt like 'red October', ain't crossin' over 

Oops ! scud scrub patriot makes pulver 

The music hits, fierce as it is 

Check the brothers in the crowd that 'hiss' 

Good grief 

Industry check to mac, and wanna know me 

I kick against control untamed like wild pony 

Stay lonely like tony, attract like Coney Island 

My style man, don't need no master, flasher 

Test a prankster gangster like a gatt much faster 

Get the band aid, the kid front hard knock 

I sport more techniques confidential than Fort Knox 

Sort of tool - glock - automatic on the static 

Synthetic - plastic ?- you stay ready with the cascet 

I throw a style, now a freak wants to test it 

It's crazy mega fab, makes your hottie cher 

I crush mc jaws who oughtta be chandelier 

And drop the ltter - on the quitter 

The survival-rival gets stranger 

Much fitter 

Worldwide you get served like stinky cheese 

More force than a sexual intercourse 

So mc's please! 

Brothers amaze, keep 'em all in a daze 

With the wild funk blaze 

Good grief 

One time for your mind now, as I have to climb now 

Step by step now, where your rap now 

I kick the flavor like a wes craven 

People under my stairs wanna steal like raven 

Black with breaks wanna croak when spoken to 

Some shitty nonsense beat, you gotta be jokin' too 

The rhyme enforcer, rhythm corsair 

Hit the core with force, well of course oh ! 

Don't give me that lip lip 

Like he thought that he could 

I frown on bullshit like my name's Clint Eastwood 

You come with fronts, stunts 'n poses 

I welcome you to my jungle 

Like my name was Guns 'n Roses 

I blast the sound, you check the sound 

You got to be down, you got to be down and be like Charlie Brown 

Saying good grief