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Grindin Muzik

by Tyger Vinum

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1.
AhhYoo 04:53
Locally accepted, globally respected. People I connect wit, know my life is hectic. I'm too ill, I represent Springfield. And if you ain't real, then we can never build. You know the drill, gimme the money and the shine. The streeets are a dangerous field, of landmines. Watch who you jack, some catz fight back. Whip out the ratchet and let the hammer clap. Vinumz a warrior, walk the streetz no crew. Get luv from catz, who wear the red and blue. You can be blood or cuz, it's cool wit me. On both sides I lost close friends and family. I don't G.B. I see the bigger picture. To the police, your just another dead nigga. I'm trying to cop figures, so I can be rich. In a lavish house, with a fine ass bitch. CHORUS (2X) Ahhyoo we getting high we getting high tonight (smoking lie) we getting high tonight (start beef) we getting high tonight (we fight) You niggaz are sonned out, let me speak to your father. So I can leave lines in his head like a barber. I flow like water, drown emcees wit my lyrical. Gift I spit, words in panoramic visual. Your flow is pitiful, another lamb to the slaughter. Battling me you need a tank, and kevlar armor. Rather be a farmer, growing weed exclusively. Sell most off for profit, keep a little tree for me. That's not reality, or a possibility. Till I'm paid and enslave the rap industry. You into sodemy, with little boys and animals. Performing rituals, with insense and candles. Involved in scandels, for your perversity. Thrown under prison, then beaten regularly. Vinum be, secretly, plotting a strategy. Behead all my enemies, like a Greek tragedy. CHORUS (2X) Ahhyoo we getting high we getting high tonight (smoking lie) we getting high tonight (start beef) we getting high tonight (we fight) I done seen the biggest nigga on the block get shot. With a glock, body shaking like electric shock. Now that's beef, know the term or loose your teeth. Loose lips have made a lot of homies shot and deceased. I stay humble, bubble in the shadows and shade. Each word, blows apart herbs, like a grenade. My flows are defiant, need noone, self reliant. I'm an untamed lion, becoming a giant. In this industry, no emcee, is fucking with T.V. A beast off the leash, wild like a grizzly. There's too many wankstas, wearing colorful rags. Most are full of shit, like colostomy bags. I live this rap shit, spit graphic, you bastids. It's in my deoxyribonucleic acid. Psychotic and spastic, possessed by madness. I torch my enemies, and drink their ashes...I'm that sick. CHORUS (2X) Ahhyoo we getting high we getting high tonight (smoking lie) we getting high tonight (start beef) we getting high tonight (we fight)
2.
Half of these catz never seen a shapeshifter. Live rhyme spitter, with a corroded liver. Vinum spit vicious, once I step in the room. Flow nice with Sean Price, like twins in the womb. Both grimay, masters of ancient styles like Pimay. Find may, sippin on Gin Sapphire Bombay. I’ll use my index finger, to pluck out your eyes. Then scar your face like that guy, in Vanilla Sky. Drunk and high, off tequila from Tijuana. I’m already a goner, seeing death around the corner. So we can battle anywhere, I’ll end your rap career. Leave ya lost on a mountain, in the cave of despair. Eaten by bears, leaving no corpse. Initiated by Satan, behold the pale horse. Absorb your life force, aspirations and dreams. Write ém into my verse, then sell it for cream. CHORUS (2X) Ahhyoo who dat be, wit the ODB of the BCC Sean P, wit Tyger V two of the dopest lyricists in history Sean P (verse) CHORUS Ahhyoo who dat be, wit the ODB of the BCC Sean P, wit Tyger V two of the dopest lyricists in history Ahhyoo who dat be, wit the ODB of the BCC Sean P, wit Tyger V I’m addicted to marajuana and amphetimines. The only problem I got with drugs is staying clean. I’m not a fiend, but I need to get twisted. Lifted cuz I’m gifted, with a mind tormented. By visons of destruction, and annihilation. Mankinds extinction, the return of Satan. Disguised as the president of a country. That once was known as the land of the free. So pardon me, if I drink to much. And pop a couple of pills while hitting the dutch. I’m a little depressed and my soul feels unrest. To find a home I roam the globe like Johnny Quest. SO don’t test, cuz your flows won’t move me. The imagery I spit, you see like a movie. Ghetto poetry about my struggle daily. Spilling on the beat, wit my man Sean P. CHORUS (2X) Ahhyoo who dat be, wit the ODB of the BCC Sean P, wit Tyger V two of the dopest lyricists in history
3.
A lot of rappers like to claim, that they spit. Until I get in the booth, and show 'em they ain't shit. Vinum's lyrically fit, and equipped to dome split. Any rapper that you get, is a moving target. You're living a fantasy, or alternate reality. Going against Tyger Vinum lyrically. I rhyme about life, my history is larceny. Sprinkled in raps, that get you high like tree. My brain don't work right, it's called insanity. Quick to smack a bitch up like Prodigy. If she get out of line, and her lips start flying. Talking reckless, in the cage with a lion. There's no denying, Vinum's dope with rhymes. Elevating minds with lines, on drugs, sex and crimes. But never mine, that's how cats get prison time. I entertain the brain with fictional paradigms. CHORUS (2X) One of the best kept secrets in the industry. A real master of ceremony, Tyger V. With Slisco B, and we high like astronauts. Smashing thru opponents, like the juggernaut. Punks hide your girl if she's attractive. My flows massive, straight radioactive. In a matter of minutes she'll be on my arm. Dangling off my words like a chain with a charm. But Vinum drops bombs that scramble the neurons. In your brain with slang that connects like voltron. Are you feeling me yet, like patches of nicorette. That help control your smoking but can't make you forget. That I'm sick with it, nitro-glycerine when I spit it. Game so heavy you need a forklift to move it. So I'm not trying to hear the bullshit that you say. Watch your girls hands play where my nuts lay. As my words spray, thru systems across the globe. From sub-tropical climates to the Artic cold. Three albums done, a hundred thousand sold. While watching whack niggaz chase platinum and gold. CHORUS (2X) One of the best kept secrets in the industry. A real master of ceremony, Tyger V. With Slisco B, and we high like astronauts. Smashing thru opponents, like the juggernaut.
4.
Vinum's internationally known in cities and slums. Go head bump your gums, get beat like a drum. Reverse red rum and twist your top like a compass. Rapper assassination and the mics my accomplice. What I've accomplished, controlling peoples minds. While leaving my footprints, in the sands of time. Biterz press rewind to study my rhyme skills. Tyger Vinum's the reason that the earth stood still. One of the worse cursed with unquenchable thirst. Feed you baby after-birth from the trunk of a hearse. That's a sick visual that'll damage your spiritual. Dealing with this super lyrical Vinumous miracle. Adhering to, the hustlers code of survival. A bounty on your head then it's dead on arrival. Fuck those rap titles, save those for my rivals. I'm chasing success and boarder-line homicidal. CHORUS (2X) We controlling the game, living in the fast lane. Forget plaques and videos, remember the names. Tyger Vinum and the legendary Kool G Rap. Two catz that don't relax until our money stacks. I spit dat, gutter gospel bossolini tilt to the side. Blowing el cubano smoke thru the nostrils. You know how Pa do, on the bar stools lost dude. Harsh dudes live by the mob rules, sharp as a blade. So clean be squeaking like beds in a brothel. Constantly get harassed by the feds in the marshalls. Yaw dudes goin to end up like articles in the tribune. Don’t gimme no space or im gonna click soon an blix room KGR, Tyger Vinum a couple A.R’s and AK-47 rifles wit’em. 747 bathroom with the flight attendant. Force feeding the bitch dick, got some Tyson in ‘em. Rocks bling on a nigga fly, shorty like the denim. Ya I bag a lawyer wife, then bend ‘em. Cuz if she’s feeling you dude, shes giving KGR twice the rhythm Heads turning like lights in the prism leave your life ending . CHORUS (2X) We controlling the game, living in the fast lane. Forget plaques and videos, remember the names. Tyger Vinum and the legendary Kool G Rap. Two catz that don't relax until our money stacks. I've sold treez, mushrooms, and exstacy. Now these weak catz, think they better than me. Nigga please, I spit heat at one million degrees. Hot enough to melt the plants on the coast of Belize. With Kool G Rap we fill fake niggaz with dread. Luv big butt sluts who like giving head. Cornbread fed, like them chicks in Alabama. I'm from the east coast but spit that country gramma. Yo shorty, let me get at you for a minute. Leave her on all fours with her ass cheeks dented. My brains demented, rhymes are therapeutic treatment. Lines so hard that they crack the pavement. It's evident that Vinum has no competition. I run through opponents like a head-on collision. Microphone terrorist, with a voice of thunder. Moving crowds like the worlds tenth great wonder. CHORUS (2X) We controlling the game, living in the fast lane. Forget plaques and videos, remember the names. Tyger Vinum and the legendary Kool G Rap. Two catz that don't relax until our money stacks
5.
Stay in your motherfuckin lane. CHORUS (2X) This is wat I do, this is wat I do Don't worry bout me, don't worry bout you Sir Lioth's verse CHORUS (2X) This is wat I do, this is wat I do Don't worry bout me, don't worry bout you Burgs wanted fire, so I'm a spit flames. So hot, the radio waves fry your brains. They plot, Vinum's demise but still I remain. On the block, getting gwap, chasing fortune and fame. Staying true to the game, every decision I make. Dropping flows that move cities like tectonic plates. That break and devastate, like hurricane Katrina. Schizophrenic mind with a calm demeanor. Go head palm the heater, harder niggaz have tried. Catz screaming ride or die, meet God satisfied. Justified homicide, for testing a barbarian. Military trained, like the last Sumerian. Verbal disciplinarian, I'm a crowd controller. Mister Poizonous, in more countries than Coca-Cola. Turn catz green like Yoda, from envy and hate. Cuz this is what I do, and they can't relate.
6.
I invade peoples cities like, Ivan the Terrible. Destroy weak emcees, with these poisonous parables. One of the illest muthafuckas, walking the globe. I get deep inside your mind, like an alien probe. Appetite for destruction, an haven't ate in weeks. I got a masochistic mind, with a brawlers physique. Vinum'z deep, rooted in the sewers and streets. Walking the concrete, selling CDs to eat. I'm unruly, fight bare-knuckled without a tooly. Most of these rappers, are like actors in a movie. Spittin rhymes, a hundred years ahead of my time. Vinum'z already legend, and not yet in my prime. I stormed the gates of heaven, for the bread and wine. Fucked Satans concubine, now his domain is mine. Biochemical lines, of proteins and enzymes. Banished to walk earth, until my soul's refined. (that's how I grind) CHORUS Grindin muzik, for my smokers and tweakers Muzik for hustlers that blows out your speakers. Grindin muzik, for my sisters and brothers. Running streets wild raised by single mothers. Grindin Muzik, for people trying to survive. Working extra hours at their nine to five Grindin muzik, if you need to understand. Dreams of holding the world in the palm of your hand. The reason for the pain, is the pleasure beneath. I knock out your front teeth, for giving me grief. That's tough love baby, so I'll keep this brief. You're a follower a soldier and I'm the chief. Never get it confused, or get battered and bruised. I'm a madman gambling, with nothing to lose. Watching these fools, claim they shot in the head. Where I come from, a head shot means your dead. Rappin about gats and clips, you don't got. Can get your body wet, an flowers mourning the spot. Or three meals and a cot, once your locked-up Catz have ya bent over, face down ass up. With a dick in your gut, so clear out your ears. I'm the beast in the dark, that Neanderthals feared. Vinum's a born hustler, on the chase for cream. Still believing he can have the American dream. CHORUS Grindin muzik, for my smokers and tweakers Muzik for hustlers that blows out your speakers. Grindin muzik, for my sisters and brothers. Running streets wild raised by single mothers. Grindin Muzik, for people trying to survive. Working extra hours at their nine to five. Grindin muzik, if you need to understand. Dreams of holding the world in the palm of your hand. Tyger vinum will never run, a lyrical shogun. So cold I drink lava and bathe in the sun. Sweat diamonds, little crystal shards of ice. To entice my enemies, to sacrifice their life. Nefarious and trite, plotting to get my riches. I keep 'm out my circle they're considered male bitches. Leave 'm scarred with stitches from neck to ear. Suck blood thru a straw so I can taste the fear. You ain't hearing me clear, Tyger Vinum's a monsta. Smoking ganja, that tastes like Pomelo Fanta. I tried to warn ya, now death is certain. I'll put a sting ray thru your chest, like Steve Erwin. Vinum's built for war, trained by being poor. How to blaze sick rhymes into dope metaphors. A savage for cabbage from Amsterdam to the bay. Slice emcees in delicate pieces like filet 'cuz daddy don't play. CHORUS Grindin muzik, for my smokers and tweakers Muzik for hustlers that blows out your speakers. Grindin muzik, for my sisters and brothers. Running streets wild raised by single mothers. Grindin Muzik, for people trying to survive. Working extra hours at their nine to five Grindin muzik, if you need to understand. Dreams of holding the world in the palm of your hand.
7.
Baby girl let me take it off, before I break you off. Skin looks so soft, in that candy gloss. No need to floss, cuz you wit the boss. Let me cover your body in apple sauce. Then lick it off, nice and slow . Until your hair grows into an afro. Until your bones ache cuz you cant take mo. Until your dripping wet onto the floo. Then you got to go, cuz I'm a pimp see. Out on the street making my money. Trying to make a dollar of a few cds. So I can retire before I'm forty. Going crazy, when I step on stage. I use the microphone to release my rage. Turn nice girls into kinky slaves. Once I get 'em back to the bat cave. CHORUS Now bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money. Shorty bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money. I was chillin in the club, on a Saturday night. High like an orbiting satellite. I seen this fly Asian, who looked half white. In expensive jeans, that looked too tight. So they fit just right, and I asked her name. Shorty was hip to a playa's game. She asked for a drink, to see if I was lame. Paying for her drink, meant I had no game. So I turned her down, asked her name again. She looked in my eyes, and started smiling. Said about the drink, she was only playin. Leaned on my chest and started flirtin. Her name was Kaylin, she was from the chi. She loved some Twista and Do or Die. It was hot indoors so we went outside. Had sex in the back seat of her ride. CHORUS Now bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money. Shorty bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. Mr. Poizonous, if you don't know me. Used to be a menace to society. Now po-po trying to hire me. I ain't no snitch, so they got to go. Got some nice treez that we can blow. I got a few plants that I like to grow. Dry em, cut em sell em, then get the doe. You can call it cheddar or you can call it gwap. Call it what you want, the hustle don't stop. Until I'm filthy rich, calling in my own shots. Buying up property by the block. So I can shop, for my family. Put 'em somewhere warm and comfy. In a nice house close to the sea. Kickin back in the lap of luxury. CHORUS (2X) Bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money. Shorty bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce...bounce And put it in my pocket. Mr. T.V. P.I.I.M.P. All I wanna see is you got my money.
8.
I came in the game, with my word and my balls. Lost my word to a herb for an once and two broads. I'm a low-life that smokes right, and spits acid. Most of my homies are in jail or laying in a casket. Situation's drastic, Vinum needs some cash quick. Rub the barrel on your lips, like it's Chap Stick. Strike like a condor, microphone conqueror. Vanquish my enemies, like the god of war. I'm trying to world tour, from Amsterdam to China. So I can fuck a few, fine fashion designers. Dig up in 'em like miners, searching for buried treasure. Catz come here cocky, rollout on a stretcher. Tyger Vinum and Ruste Juxx., when our rhymes combine. They fry listeners' spines, like kissing a power line. Two emcees on the grind, to feed our families. Crushing all contenders from Brooklyn to overseas. CHORUS (2X) Real talk to all our soldiers with discipline. Hustling making money, living a life of sin. The key to the mission, don't chase the shine. Success will manifest, if you 'focus your mind.' Ruste Juxx's verse CHORUS (2X) Real talk to all our soldiers with discipline. Hustling making money, living a life of sin. The key to the mission, don't chase the shine. Success will manifest, if you 'focus your mind.' Dope is taking the beat, and spittin vicious. Mr. Poizonous was born with a lyrical gift. The rhyme arsonist, sparkin this honey dutchess. Sitting in a coffeeshop, flippin rhymes thru my wrist. I'm a writer, crowd exciter, cannabis terrorist. With a lighter, don't test cuz the best, have tasted my fire. Few have survived, risking their lives. On a track with Tyger Vinum is suicide. I provide, high voltage lyrical dopeness. That rocks clubs and bars from coast to coast. It's, the hungriest, villainous, musical messiah. Milking the industry, for my every desire. Each line inspires, wannabes to mimic me. Committing mimicry, is emcee felony. Copy somebody else, leave Vinum on the shelf. Biting something poisonous is bad for your health. CHORUS (2X) Real talk to all our soldiers with discipline. Hustling making money, living a life of sin. The key to the mission, don't chase the shine. Success will manifest, if you 'focus your mind.'
9.
Grimey cat, straight out the projects. Brain speeds like a projectile object. On contact, I destroy your mind. Revive your corpse, like Dr. Frankenstein. I don't chase the shine, Vinum stays humble. Watching catz go broke, while I bubble. It's double trouble, when I'm with Burgs. Chillin in the studio, puffing herb. The herbs be scared, cuz we taking over. Flow be sick like spit, from a cobra. Go supernova, over the beat. It's cold in the streets, so I'm packing heat. Freestyle killer, mic assassin. Aim and cock the rhyme, then I'm blasting. In ghetto fashion, to finish the song. Mix down the track Burgs, then I'm gone. CHORUS It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Fresh ...New Ah..Yeah It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Burgs and tyger...Tyger Vinum Mr. Poizonous Burgs' verse CHORUS It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. ........................................ It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. High off treez feeling the breeze from the sea. I gotta stop smoking, the tar is killing me. It's Tyger V, and the b u r g s. We up in the studio, doing it fresh. You can guess, yes we got another hit. That makes you flip, when the club bumps it. Girls dig it, give the ass when we kick it. Flow liquid, to make it easy when we stick it. Vinum's wicked, puke verses like a bulimic. No gimmick, my style can't be repeated. Tha one an only, Mister Poizonous. Divine is the fact that I let you exist. Gorilla in the mist, hunting for cheddar. Wake up red-eyed, smoke makes it redder. Threats may scare, lead make you deader. Shortie felt hot, my voice made her wetter. I'm a go get her. CHORUS (2X) It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum aka Mr. Poizonous It's that new new shit, that that new new shit. Tyger Vinum aka Mr. Poizonous
10.
It's that ghetto bastard, with another hood story. Strap yourself in, cuz it gets kinda gory. Nothing boring, I was at the basketball court. A pick-up game two on two, enjoying the sport. Girls were wearing shorts and tiny tank tops. The sun was shining bright, then along came the cops. All the fun stopped, once they rolled on the scene. The guys playing craps, all grabbed for their green. Popo was rolling solo, only one badge in the car. He parked then climbed out, acting drunk and bizarre. Looking dazed and confused, talking strange to himself. We went from being worried, to scared for his health. Whatever hand he got dealt, was a losing one. He took a few steps forward, then reached for his gun. My heart was beating hard, from watching his hands shake. There's more to the tale, but that's after the break. CHORUS (2X) It's a hood story, so move in and listen close. Tales of where I dwell that get deeper than most. A place of drugs, crime and ghetto philosophy. Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see. The cop's hands were shaking like a Parkinsons patient. J-Rock ran up the block, saying he couldn't take it. The cop just watched, like he was dazed for a second. Then a shot rang out and blood started spreading. From the back of J-Rock's shirt as he hit the concrete. People started screaming, running away down the street. One shot went 'blaow,' then another and another. Bodies kept falling while running for cover. I dipped and dodged, tripped lost my I-pod. Crawled behind a tree, picked up a steel rod. Less then ten feet away, from the cop on his right. So close he could feel me, but still out of sight. Laying on the ground, waiting for the right moment. Hoping when it came along, I wouldn't blow it. Blood flowed thru the streets, in a crimson lake. There's more to the tale, but that's after the break. CHORUS (2X) It's a hood story, so move in and listen close. Tales of where I dwell that get deeper than most. A place of drugs, crime and ghetto philosophy. Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see. The cop laughed while shooting, the scene was wild. The more people screamed, the wider he smiled. Like this was a cookout, and everything was all good. This stuff wouldn't happen, in a white neighborhood. On TV you would see, swat teams on the scene. Then his head would be marked with an infra-red beam. While I was thinking this, the people kept dying. The psycho kept smiling, I heard a child crying. The gun swiveled to the left, I swung from the right. He saw me too late, steel crushed his wind-pipe. I watched the cop drop, like a sack of potatoes. The gun spun on the ground, like a metal tornado. They say he went crazy, cuz his wife got deported. Cops take care of cops, so no crime was reported. The moral of the story is, know who to trust. There's no justice in the world, there's just us. CHORUS (2X) It's a hood story, so move in and listen close. Tales of where I dwell that get deeper than most. A place of drugs, crime and ghetto philosophy. Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see. .
11.
I'm poster child for the alcohol abusing, drug addicted, criminally insane. You can tell by the name that what flows thru my veins. Are some vile fluids that belong in a sewer main. All my relationships are strained, I write to release mental tension. Simple pencil portraits, to encapsulate how I'm living. In this moment in time, while writing these lines. Unrelenting ambitions, to make the world mine. Call it megalomaniac complex, or delusions of grandeur. But I believe spiritually, that in life I deserve more. So I survive thru these struggles, and bear new scars. Shooting for the moon, to walk among the stars. Roaming a lonely path that only I can see. Scouring the globe for the right company. To share my journey, through life's landscape. Treacherous, filled with pitfalls that hold no escape.
12.
I just came from the bar, after drinking six shots. My heart's racing fast, and my chest feels hot. The brain starts to plot, ways to change my life. The story keeps repeating, but I can't get it right. I taste success, like bats feel night. Drinking in the darkness, so I feel the light. Tyger Vinum's a broken dream, aged by time. I lusted for the cream, then corrupted by crime. I leak in these lines, that I share with caution. Warning the ignorant about, pimping and flossing. I've traveled the globe, sold dreams to fiends. Used a triple beam, witnessed homicide scenes. I'm trying to get rich, as fast as I can. If success is the goal, then I have a plan. In races already ran, on wet and dry land. Shows I have endurance, like the bionic man. CHORUS My addictions, my addictions, Be giving my body pain, the more that I try and change the cycle remains the same. My addictions, my addictions, I wish I could just let them go, focus on rocking a show, getting chedda for my flow. My addictions, my addictions, Be hounding me day and night.The more that I try and fight, the more painful becomes the bite. My addictions, my addictions, I know one day that I'll be free. The world recognizing me as a talented emcee. Vinum's after the dollars, fuck get respect. I'll snap your neck, if I can't cash the check. I spit infection fever, hot like a furnace. Then I'll gut and stuff ya, like a taxidermist. Scorching in hell fire sitting at Satan's feast. Sharing my conquests over roasted meat. With liver and intestines from the dead and resting. Consumed by the beast, like salad with dressing. Shorty don't meddle with miniature men. Coffee cinnamon skin, deep throat like a pelican. Coming from Tokyo, visiting Holland. On a drug binge, spending Euros and Yen. Seduced by false friends, to start skin poppin. They knew the name and hotel where she checked in. They took her to a party, by a field on a farm. She was dead a week later, with a needle in her arm. CHORUS My addictions, my addictions, Be giving my body pain, the more that I try and change the cycle remains the same. My addictions, my addictions, I wish I could just let them go, focus on rocking a show, getting chedda for my flow. My addictions, my addictions, Be hounding me day and night.The more that I try and fight, the more painful becomes the bite. My addictions, my addictions, I know one day that I'll be free. The world recognizing me as a talented emcee. I don't sleep, I pass out from exhaustion. Wake-up paranoid, make moves with caution. Phone taps and searches remind me of Boston. Where cops bag a nigga, whether broke or flossin. It's deep in these streets, you can end up slain. Where the drug game, whispers sweet lies to your brain. I hear the chedda calling me, by first name. Lost hope an ambitionz, poured down the drain. I'm loving the things, that cause me misery. Maybe it's the reason, for my insanity. I don't spit rhymes, for lyrical competition. Or to give Hip-Hop, the voice it's been missin. Vinum's motivation, is a deep seated craving. For stacks of chedda, in large denominations. Angry and self-hating, I'm out of control. Trying to reach my goal, before I lose my soul. CHORUS My addictions, my addictions, Be giving my body pain, the more that I try and change the cycle remains the same. My addictions, my addictions, I wish I could just let them go, focus on rocking a show, getting chedda for my flow. My addictions, my addictions, Be hounding me day and night.The more that I try and fight, the more painful becomes the bite. My addictions, my addictions, I know one day that I'll be free. The world recognizing me as a talented emcee. These are my addictions. Music, weed, sex, and happiness. What are you addicted to, that's between me and you. And I'm out....
13.
I was chilling in the bottle, at one in the A.M. Smoking on a blunt, watching poppi eat trim. Tongue deep in, between shorties two lips. His hands were on her ass, elevating her hips. I flow so crisp, spit raspy with a lisp. This porn shit has me, feeling so marvelous. Blessing cannabis, watching the barfly's walk by The beat was hot before, now I'm making it fry. Feeling so high, watching tits clits and thighs. Making me wanna dive, for some Eskimo pie. Now it's two forty-five, and the bottle is packed. If I leave my table now, there's no making it back. Loving this track, jazz and Roberta Flack. Maybe not, but I know it's something like that. Matter of fact, it just maybe Sade. Her smoove groves, are known to take your troubles away. CHORUS (2X) Late night at the bottle, porn on the television. Cutting through the brain, like a surgical incision. Causing double vision, and it's a long walk home. I got beats and rhymes, and No microphone. It's three thirty, and shorties sitting at the bar. Caramel complexion, brown eyes and no scars. Shining like a red dwarf star, from twenty yards. Body lighting up the room, like a quasar. Cherry red lips, wearing a tight pair of Lee's. Five six slim hips, walking over to me. I'm sipping my Heineken, puffing white widow trees. I fly through skies, like my name was Haley's. Best believe I'm fucking tonight, if possible. You wanna sit next to me ma, what's stopping you. What do I do, I'm Tyger Vinum Mister Poizonous. Artist writer poet, worldwide lyricist. Free style arsonist, but we can talk about that later. Right now hit this blunt and get high like an elevator. She liked that, then told me her name. Elaine, and up close she looked kind of plain. Now it's four A.M. and I'm drunk as fuck. Shorty talks like a dime, but I know she's a duck. Hard on her luck, but I wasn't giving her no ends. For a drink suck, finger fuck or skins. Lets be friends has always been, my motto. You pay for your own drinks, but still swallow. I spit hollow, tip game so she'll follow. Calling me her general, like Collin Powell. The bar was closing, time for me to go home. Smoke a bone, throw on some beats and just zone. She hit me with the digits to her cellular phone. Fiending like a demon, for me to make her moan. She had just flown, In from the Ukraine. Outside she was on her knees giving me brain. It felt insane, exploding like candy rain. Tomorrow I might call Elaine, so we can do the same. CHORUS (2X) Late night at the bottle, porn on the television. Cutting through the brain, like a surgical incision. Causing double vision, and it's a long walk home. I got beats and rhymes, and No microphone.
14.
That's Life 02:11
I got the green light for a record with Sean P. A week later IRS was coming after me. But that’s life right, just how things go. Shady promoters trying to keep the cash, after my show. Trying to stay level headed, get back to Amsterdam. So I don’t turn Berkowitz, Son of Sam. Counting the grams, till there’s a once on the plate. Tap the side of the scale, to help balance the weight. Staying high, dressing fly, partying till I die. Plant some treez to cut and smoke, after their dry. My girl’s stressing me out, cuz we need more money. Distant family calls my house, and it’s funny. They think I’m Donald Trump cuz I live overseas. Not understanding it costs more to live, where I be. I struggle to make ends meet, hustling everyday. Until I’m paid in full, or find a easier way. CHORUS (2X) Rents due that’s life. Feeling blue that’s life. A cheating wife hey that’s life, right? Sometimes it makes you wanna cut your wrists with a knife. Don’t rest, don’t sleep, don’t even breath deep. Hungry niggaz in the room, and we on the creep. I’m a MC not a dealer, with flows that’ll kill ya. Make ya leak fluid, to show ya, that I don’t feel ya. So don’t speak, unless flames come out your lips. I got flows that orbit the Earth like spaceships. Turn niggaz to liquid, when it comes to dinero. Homegrown treez, got me high like a sparrow. Vinum’s sick wit, is comparable to no one. Other rappers spit nines, I’m an artillery gun. Life is mayhem, so the lyrics reflect that. Use action over words, cuz niggaz respect that. I spit facts, more addictive than street crack. That get white catz talking like they black. Tyger Vinum, you best remember the name. You can put me underwater and I still spit flames. CHORUS (1X) Rents due that’s life. Feeling blue that’s life. A cheating wife hey that’s life right? Sometimes it makes you wanna cut your wrists with a knife.
15.
There's something wrong with me, and doctors can't fix-it. I was born unbalanced and verbally wicked. People feel it when we kick-it, cuz I don't hide it well. Sent back to Earth cuz of, population problems in hell. In places I dwell, cannabis sells to clientele. Never been to prison, but know jail cells well. Cursed semen produced a demon, hiding in human skin. The appearance of a man, but more animal within. A grimy cat with tats, the artistic insomniac. Spit his life on wax, to make the crowd react. Fiction and fact, dropped in hypnotic sentences. Got hoes that make doe like plant, photosynthesis. Put that in parenthesis, cuz they make money. Politicking got niggas trickin, from rich to bummy. And the girls love me, cuz I enrich their life. Vinum's swagger is sharp as daggers, and cold as ice. CHORUS (2X) Tyger Vinum and NLZ, two catz with ill skillz. That force-feed you Hip-Hop, like an ex pill. We get high on dat, and we be taking it back. To where catz were fearless, spit reality raps. 'We Fearless' NLZ's verse CHORUS (2X) Tyger Vinum and NLZ, two catz with ill skillz. That force-feed you Hip-Hop, like an ex pill. We get high on dat, and we be taking it back. To where catz were fearless, spit reality raps. 'We Fearless' When the pen touches paper, flames erupt. Spittin verses like curses, older than King Tut. Known to bone a few sluts, with enough whiskey in me. Make-up with my girl like Bobby and Whitney. I shoot liquor in my kidneys, in the form of a shot. Drinking a lot a Sky vodka, sweet like apricots. Niggaz scheme and plot, Tyger Vinum'z demise. I can see the jealousy, when I look in their eyes. I'm a living legend, lyrical flows that I'm spreading. Fire out my mind, projectiles from weapons. Vinum be spitting, like a man on a mission. Can't rest cuz success, is almost in my vision. The pen is therapy, it helps clear my mind. Linked up with NLZ, another cat on the grind. Combined with raw lines, of manic energy. Make bars so sick, they come with needle and I.V. CHORUS (2X) Tyger Vinum and NLZ, two catz with ill skillz. That force-feed you Hip-Hop, like an ex pill. Get high on dat, we be taking it back. To where catz were fearless, spit reality raps. 'We Fearless'
16.
Tha History 03:35
I was there, back when Melvin ran the 'Live on the Low.' Lange Franz and Baas B, used to host the show. Back when all the DJ's, sounded like Tony Touch. Before Opgezwolle made it cool, to rhyme in Dutch. Back when every MC, spit in English. Before all the drama, and the E-Life diss. Back when Cane dropped the song, 'you can't fool mine.' Before Negativ would flip, and twist his rhymes. I was here for all that, in a hoodie and skull cap. Going from here to Meerkerk, and across the map. Back when Hustlers 4 Life, was all O.G.s My dogs Skillz, Colors, Zpitta and Popski. I can't forget Roses, cuz the homie might notice. Cool cat, that would knock your eyes out of focus. I'm a veteran, I've witnessed it all. Seen the rise of Kings, then watched their downfall. CHORUS (2X) Here's my Amsterdam Hip-Hop history. Preserved in pen like ancient prophesy. Shared with the world like philosophy. Courtesy of the one and only Tyger V. I was there when Bijlmer Style, was just a dream. And Loyalty Records, used to run the scene. Before 101barz, was the show to bless. Back when Rojoch, would drink cans of eight point zes. In back of the club, with a group of wild niggas. Back when catz fought with fists, instead of triggers. I existed, and if you weren't here, then you missed it. The time of raw talent, and the lyrically gifted. All of these new catz, with their bubble gum raps. Claiming that they pimping hoes, and bustin gats. Are artificial, I blow 'em apart like scud missiles. Rip out their hearts, and chew their bone grizzle. I speak the truth, and can't stand fabrication. I rather hit the booth, and skip conversation. Those days are gone, and we can't get them back. So I bleed those memories, and preserve 'em on wax. CHORUS (2X) Here's my Amsterdam Hip-Hop history. Preserved in pen like ancient prophesy. Shared with the world like philosophy. Courtesy of the one and only Tyger V. One of the most unique, MC's you'll ever meet. From Springfield projects, to Amsterdam streets. Vinum been spittin heat, hotter than Earth's core. Back when U.S. artists visit Fatbeats store. I arrived on the scene in two thousand and one. Smoked every different kind of weed under the sun. Before the Euro arrived, the guilder was money. With a few coins winos could fill their tummy John owned La Canna, O-Dogg was security. The Osdorp Posse was Dutch royalty. Before Pitu Records, had a dope studio. The booth was in the closet, at my man Slisco's. Before The Box disappeared, an MTV was whack. Before State Magazine, had Hip-Hop acts. Tyger V's a whole different breed, of MC. And I guarantee your favorite MC, knows me. CHORUS (2X) Here's my Amsterdam Hip-Hop history. Preserved in pen like ancient prophesy. Shared with the world like philosophy. Courtesy of the one and only Tyger V.

about

"Grindin Muzik" the third album from Tyger Vinum is 16 tracks of new flavor displaying his growth as a MC. The album is a mix of gritty street tales, party anthems, and lyricism. Backed by top quality production and featuring collaborations with artists Sean Price, Kool G. Rap, Ruste Juxx, and others.

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released January 10, 2010

Executive Producer - Tyger Vinum
Vinumous Records
Poizonous Pen Publishing

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Tyger Vinum Amsterdam, Netherlands

Tyger Vinum is a Writer, Producer, Filmmaker and Videographer from Springfield, Massachusetts. He is currently Owner of his own record label Vinumous Records operating out of Amsterdam, Holland. Tyger Vinum has worked with Hip-Hop icons Kool G. Rap and Sean Price, as well as Planet Asia, Ruste Juxx, Shabaam Sahdeeq, PaceWon, and many other artists. ... more

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