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gruf – butcher’s bill lyrics

[verse one: pip skid]
i find it hard to believe that you know my st–z
please, you’re a fart in the wind, a soft breeze
get up off your knees and look me in the eye
you a fruit like what gets cooked into a pie
hooked and high yeah the pot still stink
like when a wet sausage link rot in the sink
not what you think, create change like a quarter
for putting these strange hate raps into recorder
might as well go for a soder, aaah i mean soda
mix it with the rye and green to fill the quota
colder than north dakota (you need to compare?)
you look a whole h-ll of a lot like rick flair
what you think it’s welfare? and suck air out of a dingy
aaaaah! you think i give a f-ck about chingy?
bring me, [?], yo the future ain’t sunny
people still hungry and the butcher want his money

[verse two: yy]
a shake these
greatest of ease
give me a break beat, you’ll hate me and make me leave
i don’t play things, it’s like i have a disease
i see another and another and they’re covered in cheese
i could give a fat f-ck what the government sees
i wouldn’t rock sh-t by anybody other than me
sucker will be, kind when he suffer defeat
step aside and we’ll find somebody tougher to beat
we need
understanding, number one fans
with their hands up dancing, up in the stand
we look good
your ugly hands
and when p&c arrived they say you’re utterly bland
you started dabbling in something you can’t
[?] about a grand
you stumble into rap unplanned
making of a band
like i knew you [?] from the shaking of a hand

[verse three: john smith]
you gettin’ hacked up
i’m talkin’ big bad cuts
of mismatched chumps
the blitz man mush
so lean back, jump
the quicksand [?]
will slip that skuzz like dristan does
and who’s tracks bump?
man, smith and gruf
you ice grilling her, you need to fix that mug
man, chill the f-ck out, you need to six pack us
on a rehab, we had with mis-manners
[?] and grandma and added disses
ain’t kick the can?
aww, that old b-tch is persistent
no majors since the p&c imprint
we playing stages so cold that they gave us shrink d-nk
scare up the best of the local fodders
still i’m wearing no vest, this ain’t open water
i’ll can drown your sorrow
you can wallow and p-ss
you never headline but somehow you follow the smith
abolish this, i’m trying to profit and binge
i’d stop but it crawls in my skin and
like trainspotting, i’m off the syringe
i’m committed motherf-cker ain’t no waffling pr-ck

[scratches]
“the butcher”
“yeahh”
“break bread” – common ‘the food’
“have you cut up if you don’t pay up” – musolini ’40 island’

[verse four: satchel paige]
that’s satchel paige
mr. break legs
mr. no legs
smash talk winnipeg
black terry fox
call him terry locks
mr. ready or not
you ain’t ready or not
mister, you are not
for the body’s that rot?
you better call up the cops
we gonna dig up the plots
this is break bread, butcher shop talk
you best to walk
you think you’s tough?
yo that’s a bluff
don’t f-ck with yy or gruf
you bite?
toss out your spine
[?] with the cooking wine
a little curry and you’re tasting fine
mcenroe on the accordion
bring the reporters in
who let this n-gga in?
satchel the champion
i take my place, where ever i like
like on the love seat right beside your wife

- gruf lyrics

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