in my grits, the hits rip
Through my vocab,
no pat and pick
Constructed a flood jack et,
don't get a rope
Cause all I wanna do is hang
You rank off, won't sing,
I'll do my thing
I'll kick slang as I bring inventions
Attention, intentions come
like three dimensions
Stay focused like locusts,
this ain't no trick
Not a magician,
nutrition is the daily work
Of Ito Bailey, sure it's what I sport
Dressed like Professor King Bean,
I eat green beans
I've seen things, been around the world
And I, I said bye -bye to ways
Now I gaze in praise
at how you're being
The naked, I can't see it,
there's a knee in my back
Am bush, attack, boom, boom, boom
Time to fight back
Crush the enemies, no frenemies
This is space, now respect
From the violence to silence
This lamb had no more legs
Oh, I gotta use my skill
I gotta use my talent
Do what I must,
then I trust that I must bust
By my side, there's another
Bonus to another
Weapons come in lethal
Like Mel and Danny Glover
Well, pull out the stops
and I'm turning all the stones.
If my home's not a house,
then you can house my home.
Be gone, fickle pharaoh,
I'm like a little sparrow.
All glory, I'll fly away.
Hey, what you got to say to me?
Yo, what you got to say?
It's 12 for 94,
letting my thoughts go on the floor.
Peep the word, the word, the utter.
All my grits, I have utter.
You want the butter in your grits?
I want the butter in my grits.
You want the butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits.
You want the butter in your grits.
You want butter in my grits.
You want butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits.
You want the butter in your grits.
I have some butter in my grits.
You want some butter in your grits.
I want the butter, the butter.
You want the butter.
Butter? Yo. Yeah. I like
that. Here we go.
Yo, when I bust, it's a must,
I need the butter, it's butter, yeah,
I'ma start on the fourth.
Butter is a must when I bust
with grammatical grits,
if you will, the skills are infallible,
judgment you'll stare as you glare,
not knowing discernment,
you're indecisive, so I sense fear.
When I grip never clumsy with the vocab
your mental state of being
when I'm finished needs rehab
Psychopathic poet
when I flow to a jazz riff
enhancing intellect
No need for blood to split
cuz the butter makes me nuts
It's enough that no other can fight this the way
that I write this miss any illusion of anticipation
My proclamation is freedom
and salvation in the storm
You're lost by the form of my schism
My structure of rhyme just like a prism
Antiques, my antiques will beat
When I'm done with this,
grits must persist
To break beats and bits
Reese put the grease in the pan
By the heat from his hand
Produced fat from the mind of the man
He's the man, like a hundred grand
On the vibes of the bass
played by his hand
Beats booming streets by
the dream of Kareem
Like Elijah one had
Like my ace on the pad
Smooth is my style, yes,
I'm very versatile.
The tracks I never whack,
because the butter makes it fat.
Listen to the growth
and the knowledge of the song.
Sometimes my rhymes rhyme,
sometimes they just don't.
Yeah. Uh, check it, check it.
I want the butter in my grits,
you want the butter in your grits.
I have the butter in my grits,
you have the butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits,
you want the butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits,
you get the butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits,
you want the butter in your grits.
You got the butter in my grits,
now you got the butter in your grits.
I want the butter in my grits,
you want the butter, butter, butter.
I the in my grits, take the butter
Take it away.
Grits 
