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D.I.Y.M.

de Darwin's Waiting Room

How many mc's must get dissed?
Yo, motherfucker let me speak on this
I be that lyricist, pugilist with an educated fist
Evolutionist forced to exist on a black list
Pissed and dismissed, I resist to play the backseat
No boy from Backstreet, I'm intellectually elite
My mind moves faster than Michael Johnson at a track meet
Stepping over those under me like concrete
Smaller than gnomes, shatter your thoughts like brittle bones
Crushing feeble domes like El Nino did to mobile homes
Lamp posts get ripped apart when I envade with my tirade
Like Cat in the Hat during the Macy's Day Parade
Worthy of an accolade instead portrayed as a charade
Conveyed as an Al Jolson with a mammy serenade
Guilty of being white and out of step like Minor Threat
But I'm a major threat not willing to forgive and forget


Judge me on skills not my color or race
Judge me on skills not my color or race
Judge me on skills not my color or race
Judge me on skills, say that shit to my face


Say that shit to my face
Say that shit to my face
Say that shit to my face
Say that shit to my face


Grimm, my pseudonym, I'm an mc not a singer
Put more dents in the game than the face of Wayne Hyzienga
Scarlet Lettered, fettered as a wigger, just a wannabe
Beset with every epithet, can't get the best of me
People used to giggle and laugh, clear a path
I'm over coming obstacles like Jeremy McGrath
Those who used to raise an eyebrow, kowtow
Had no respect for you then, got no respect for you now
My spectacular vernacular suspends disbelief


You went from verbose to comatose, silent as the chief
Our time is brief, I hope no one forgets me
I've got goals to achieve before I leave like Gretzky
But I'll never retire until I see this thing through
To imbue my point of you, challenging you like K2
My forte is to foray with the words I say

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