A Soldier’s Story? - GRIP ft. GRIP

Yeah

My hunger to be regarded as the best is what's starvin' me to death

Partially depressed and harborin' regrets, targetin' success

Barterin' bars, bargainin' for checks

Becoming a star seems startlin', so I'm vexed, nonetheless, here I am, though

Now they shoved a rifle in my hands and threw me in some camo

And told me to go be Rambo, just 'cause you got a soul don't

Make you a soldier, every shoulder ain't equipped to bolster

The weight of a boulder, used to couldn't wait to get older

Over thirty now and jealous of Benjamin Button all of a sudden

Reversin' roles to live in reverse feel like more of a gift than a curse

Jogging your memory, revisitin' birth

And truly get a sense of what life is literally worth

I suppose what I write is like a zeitgeist for life's highs and lows

From night lights and tyke bikes to oversized girbauds

To the everyday fight through the plight and providing flows

That speak on it, these sonnets steeped in ebonics

Be modest, how y'all sleep on it? I count up likes and read comments

Some shit cut deep, some bring comic (Relief)

Social medias unfamiliar land, I recon it

Obtain the info, and what I gained was plain and simple

Watch what you feed the soul 'cause the eye remains the window

March to the best of your own drum, don't let 'em change the tempo

I came in this game with nickels, pockets in a major pickle, then made it triple

Was contemplatin' aimin' pistols or slangin' crystal

Or crack, or matter fact, any pack

Long as it brought plenty back

Baby boy ain't conform, just forged a formula then milked it, Similac

The raps is similar to Cinemax

Who said they could hold a candle to GRIP over wax?

Relax, I'm from the class

Of Hova and 3 Stacks, Pac, Nas, Big and Slim Shady

Been wavy way before 1080

Having nervous breakdowns like "I know the pen crazy

But how I'm 'posed to make them pay me?! Think, think, think, think—"

I hit up Tigg 'bout management, that's my mans and shit

I feel if anybody was equipped for the task, he could handle it

Besides the fact this nigga cool

He one of the only dudes I know that actually finished school (Damn)

And to me, that mean he finish what he start

So just stay down, my nigga, and we gon' see plenty from this art

I hit up TU!, "Let's cook from scratch, you got the beats, I got the raps"

First shit we made was "Culdesac", a classic track right off the bat

"Porch" came shortly after that, hardly any records scrapped

They knew that niggas was a problem, dropped "Snub'"- it was a wrap

Was s'posed to hit the road with Brent, like thirty cities on the map

Then that fuckin' 'rona hit, I lost out on thirty racks

But many people lost their lives, so how the fuck could I complain?

Feel like we moving from outside, but I feel stuck inside my brain

Is this really what I want? Am I still in love with this game?

Tigg called like, "Nigga, Eminem just said your shit was flames"

Then me and Em hopped on a call, and it all seemed fittin'

Just a couple days from quittin' and the rest is unwritten