Song: G-Rated
Artist: Grouce

Yeah, Grouce, G-Rated, I don’t think you fuckers know what you’re in for, let’s go...

(Chorus)
Now in these days and times,
Everybody thinks they’re blazin’ rhymes,
Everybody's out there chasin’ dimes,
Everybody seems jaded, lookin’ mad and deflated.

Now in these days and times,
Everybody thinks they’re blazin’ rhymes,
Everybody's out there chasin’ dimes,
This album’s called G-Rated, it was made to be hated.

(Verse 1)
Who’s got that funk that makes your rump
Shake it up, I can’t help but take a dump
On each and every one of my haters
But not now this one's for the ladies
Dancing on the dancefloor,
I'm just here to help you transport
Into another dimension
A place that your mum didn’t mention
When you were growing up,
If you don’t like me, you obviously don’t know enough
To make an informed decision,
More precision, get ready for incision
Im’a get into your mind like your physician,
I made a beat to shake in your trunk
Wind up the windows, start a dutchie, we ain’t fakin’ the funk
Like I said, I’ll be takin’ dump on the haters
But I guess I’ll save that for laters

(Chorus)

(Verse 2)
Im blazing through with amazing rhymes
But no one gives a shit in these days and times
I'm a cannabis junkie on some funky shit
And anyone who wants to hate can suck a monkey dick
Emcee slash producer
Femme fatale, look out, I’ll bash Medusa
With hash in one hand, the mic in the other,
When the fuck we stop likin’ each other,
I’ll take you up to Kakadu, beat you bloody black and blue,
Who the hell you rappin’ to, think of all the shit that doin’ that can do
Just get down to the beat, put your back into
It, this is the shit we get it crackin’ to
It’s crackalackin’, yeah, I’m back and packin’
Heat, it’s in the beat of this track I'm mackin’
Yeah, I'm mackin’ the beat, back on my feet,
Packin’ the heat, there ain’t a rapper that can compete

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)
Verse 3, I can see that you’re thirsty
For more ‘cuz I'm keepin’ it raw
Like every time when knee-deep in a whore,
Whatchu you talkin’ ‘bout?
Don’t like my show? There’s the door, start walkin’ out,
This my song, no one else's
I keep my mind strong, like Paracelsus
This ain’t a bloody pop song,
I look around and see the look on your faces and think ‘what’s wrong?’
You all have gone soft
There's nothin’ left to call upon, before the bomb dropped
I was gettin’ primed, now I'm high in the sky,
And I'm fallin’ nonstop, ‘til I'm fallin’ on top, of the game
I'm off the chain, I'm off to train,
With Isis, ‘cuz America pays ‘em to start a crisis,
There's heaps of money they pay ‘em and that entices
Someone with no money to cut a man into slices

(Chorus)