(I Bring) Trouble

July 10, 2010 12:54 AM

I'm getting back into my decade-old hip-hop project Cap City Mob, and have learned a few new tricks, as well as improved my lyrics and maybe my skills. Here's a taste of one I did this evening. [The not-so-kid-friendly lyrics inside.]

[Point of reference: my "official" rap name is Grubi, but I also go by The Maestro, XG, Double Deuce, Deuce. My friend Randy (aka Random aka Randizzle) provides the chorus section.

(I Bring) Trouble
(K Gruber)
I remember the time I woke up in a sweat
Wakin’ hard, jet, like this whole act is upset
Murdering ambition, makin’ me wishin’ I was dead
Make me sorry that I spoke up; regret what I just said
Lost among the mighty and think what it must mean
Bad influence sayin’ that it’s all about green
They call me Dr Deuce, ‘cause I operate and such
I try to avoid a fight, but I’ll fight back if I must
There’s no guarantee and no certificate
No public notary who’s there to witness it
Ya failed to come correct when ya saw my intellect
So I use the microphone to reassert earned respect
Ladies ain’t bitches unless they get bitchy
Like a ready trigga finga, I’m bout to get itchy
To get up on the mic and drop my song
If my style ain’t right, I don’t mind being wrong

Better back up
Gimme some space
(I bring trouble)

Keep ‘em greeny, stayin’ a part of the scene
Shine up on the sheen, playin’ mean and obscene
Come across bling, finger’s rings stayin’ clean
Before I’m leavin’, I make sure I got on my gling
No one’s a treat, who doesn’t float, bite, or sting
I ain’t easily offended, it don’t mean a thing
My woman’s my only girl, she’s my number one queen
I’ma be her hero, her protector and king
Been driven by this urge since I was a teen
Wantin’ to do this thing, playing a mad routine
I’m sweet like tangerine, strong like a Marine
An exemplary example of a fine human being
Check the lyrical advantage on ya iPod screen
Chop up forty-eight bars like I was Wolverine
I’m about to let Random get up on mic and sing
After I hit my quota on a verse of sixteen

On behalf of the Cap City Mob

Money, money, money, it’s not what motivates me
I’m used to jealousy and the people who hate me
It doesn’t bother me ‘cause I got a great self-image
Got some smarts about me and a smile that’s winnin’
When I play football, run the ball right through
You’ll be sorry when I score, wearin’ numba twenty-deuce
I’m jukin’ on the mic like I was Barry Sanders
Try to keep up if ya can, but ya can’t now, can ya?
I get up on the mic and the turntable
Cold rockin’ the crowd ‘cause ya know that I’m able
Bringing you a show like you’ve never seen
Pump up the volume for a microphone fiend
Like the ’27 Yankees, we’re excellent on the flow
The Cap City Mob is like Murderer’s Row
I come across strong, ya don’t like I’m middle class
The mic’s like a gun; I’ll pop a cap in ya ass

© 2007-10 Cap City Music

posted by grubi (2 comments total) 3 users marked this as a favorite

This is a fine thing. I do miss the good old days when a rap could tell a story instead of being just about the performer's lyrical skills, though!
posted by reklus at 2:52 PM on July 11, 2010

The good old days are full of songs about the MC! Those songs are older than story songs.
posted by grubi at 4:04 PM on July 11, 2010

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