| Song | Guard Your Grill |
| Artist | Naughty by Nature |
| Album | Naughty by Nature |
| Intro：Kay Gee | |
| *phone dialling* | |
| (Hello?) | |
| Hello, it's '91. Buckle up, guard your grill! Hee hee | |
| (Har what the fuck?) | |
| Has this ever happened to you? | |
| Can you name this tune? | |
| These victims knew how to guard they grill, this would've never happened! | |
| Verse 1: Treach | |
| I put two and two together and I came up with four | |
| You are forever, forgot, forbid, shouldn't have to say much more | |
| I been thru more crews than a flute, yeah I'll show ya | |
| This is so damned scrap I betcha bro don't know ya | |
| You tried to get cool and say peace, save that peace for a jigsaw | |
| Stay back and watch a real MC get raw | |
| I never know, never know when another will come to diss this | |
| But if and whenever they come I'm runnin this merry fist miss | |
| I shooker the crook and shaker the fake to get like a quick stick | |
| It's just another one dud and is dismissed | |
| Kitty guard your grill, well be for real, you ain't built | |
| I'm silly-ho smackin MC's on a ninety degree tilt | |
| The reason that it's tilted cos you're guilty, too hard to guard | |
| It's not you're tryin too gay, you're tryin too hard | |
| How hard can your guard be, I say wuz up? | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, yup! | |
| Chorus: | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| I ain't the type to give up | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| I smoke first, so what's up | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| Put em up, you ain't tough | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up! | |
| Verse 2: Treach | |
| I give em much business, an Aspirin | |
| Damn, I love a glass chin | |
| What are ya askin for mercy, I'm laughin | |
| Huh, you know the game, you know the name and you know the rep | |
| You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach | |
| There's no sleepin, no nottin, no rest and hey | |
| No snoozin, no dozin, no f'in way | |
| Heapin things up like a Coke cup | |
| Wind me up but y'all I gets the low wits tha rough stuff | |
| And after enough to cut ya off a piece, still have nuff | |
| Then go around to them and him because ??? ??? | |
| I I got posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper | |
| Use to couldn't take em out cos they was rowdy hip-hoppers | |
| There's so much gold for roast, the ??? don't knock us | |
| My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper | |
| At school I had a lot, I filled with VCR's and Vodka | |
| I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter | |
| Back then I wore briefs, tella starter, gettin hotter | |
| Then I grew yea long so I had to switch to boxers | |
| How hard can your guard be, I say what's up? | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, duck | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: Treach | |
| I don't lay, I lie, who knows like Pinnochio | |
| Never been to Tokyo or *?Keeper's Day Bolochio?* | |
| Guard your grill, here's a feel, I rush hard | |
| I got the fliest ride out here, the '91 bus card | |
| So callin me for a ride ain't the answer | |
| Huh, you want a lift ya better pick up a transfer | |
| Sayin we will go for one cut, now we're dead | |
| Oh yaeh, that's bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled | |
| Now how wrong can you be to think we play | |
| Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day | |
| So now ya feelin real low, ya no flow-crow | |
| You slow hobo, stiffer than Robo | |
| Oh, here's another side of bein real quick | |
| You might speak it fulla cracks, but you still ain't shhh... | |
| So don't try at those same style battle cry | |
| I rock the U-train, the routes that I battle by | |
| I listen to sister shit, it til they quite slow | |
| No matter that white rap, shoot a pharoah with a psycho | |
| Put down ya handgun, up which'cha hands son | |
| Look cops they come, I ain't the damned one | |
| I was only three steps from a peace prize | |
| Pieces laid, piece of his eyes and his left thigh | |
| Knuckle up, put em up, yeah guard your grill | |
| And that's comin from Illtown, down the hill | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: | |
| [Vin Rock] This goes out to the 118th Street Posse | |
| My man J Scratch in the house, y'knowhutI'msayin? | |
| And oh yaeh, pss pss pss pss | |
| [Kay Gee] Don't forget, guard your grill, knuckle up! | |
| [Treach] A strong what up to my man Kid Capri | |
| [KG] This goes out to my man Jack Don | |
| I gotta say what's up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza | |
| [T] What's up to Clark Kent and my man Face! | |
| [KG] This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill | |
| Cos they know how to definitely guard they grill | |
| [Vinny] I gotta say what's up to my man Dre and Easy in the house | |
| [T] This goes out to my man Tamere | |
| He's definitely in here | |
| What's up to my homey Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers | |
| Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC's out | |
| there | |
| Peace goes out! | |
| [Vinny] Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here | |
| PEACE! |
| Intro: Kay Gee | |
| phone dialling | |
| Hello? | |
| Hello, it' s ' 91. Buckle up, guard your grill! Hee hee | |
| Har what the fuck? | |
| Has this ever happened to you? | |
| Can you name this tune? | |
| These victims knew how to guard they grill, this would' ve never happened! | |
| Verse 1: Treach | |
| I put two and two together and I came up with four | |
| You are forever, forgot, forbid, shouldn' t have to say much more | |
| I been thru more crews than a flute, yeah I' ll show ya | |
| This is so damned scrap I betcha bro don' t know ya | |
| You tried to get cool and say peace, save that peace for a jigsaw | |
| Stay back and watch a real MC get raw | |
| I never know, never know when another will come to diss this | |
| But if and whenever they come I' m runnin this merry fist miss | |
| I shooker the crook and shaker the fake to get like a quick stick | |
| It' s just another one dud and is dismissed | |
| Kitty guard your grill, well be for real, you ain' t built | |
| I' m sillyho smackin MC' s on a ninety degree tilt | |
| The reason that it' s tilted cos you' re guilty, too hard to guard | |
| It' s not you' re tryin too gay, you' re tryin too hard | |
| How hard can your guard be, I say wuz up? | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, yup! | |
| Chorus: | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| I ain' t the type to give up | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| I smoke first, so what' s up | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up | |
| Put em up, you ain' t tough | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up! | |
| Verse 2: Treach | |
| I give em much business, an Aspirin | |
| Damn, I love a glass chin | |
| What are ya askin for mercy, I' m laughin | |
| Huh, you know the game, you know the name and you know the rep | |
| You know the Kay, you know the Vin and you know the Treach | |
| There' s no sleepin, no nottin, no rest and hey | |
| No snoozin, no dozin, no f' in way | |
| Heapin things up like a Coke cup | |
| Wind me up but y' all I gets the low wits tha rough stuff | |
| And after enough to cut ya off a piece, still have nuff | |
| Then go around to them and him because ??? ??? | |
| I I got posse full a fighters all fly like a chopper | |
| Use to couldn' t take em out cos they was rowdy hiphoppers | |
| There' s so much gold for roast, the ??? don' t knock us | |
| My nuts are my only homies that can hang proper | |
| At school I had a lot, I filled with VCR' s and Vodka | |
| I had two girls, one a runner, one a trotter | |
| Back then I wore briefs, tella starter, gettin hotter | |
| Then I grew yea long so I had to switch to boxers | |
| How hard can your guard be, I say what' s up? | |
| Guard your grill, knuckle up, put em up, duck | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse 3: Treach | |
| I don' t lay, I lie, who knows like Pinnochio | |
| Never been to Tokyo or ? Keeper' s Day Bolochio? | |
| Guard your grill, here' s a feel, I rush hard | |
| I got the fliest ride out here, the ' 91 bus card | |
| So callin me for a ride ain' t the answer | |
| Huh, you want a lift ya better pick up a transfer | |
| Sayin we will go for one cut, now we' re dead | |
| Oh yaeh, that' s bout as funny as Barbara Bush in a bobsled | |
| Now how wrong can you be to think we play | |
| Even a broken clock is right at least twice a day | |
| So now ya feelin real low, ya no flowcrow | |
| You slow hobo, stiffer than Robo | |
| Oh, here' s another side of bein real quick | |
| You might speak it fulla cracks, but you still ain' t shhh... | |
| So don' t try at those same style battle cry | |
| I rock the Utrain, the routes that I battle by | |
| I listen to sister shit, it til they quite slow | |
| No matter that white rap, shoot a pharoah with a psycho | |
| Put down ya handgun, up which' cha hands son | |
| Look cops they come, I ain' t the damned one | |
| I was only three steps from a peace prize | |
| Pieces laid, piece of his eyes and his left thigh | |
| Knuckle up, put em up, yeah guard your grill | |
| And that' s comin from Illtown, down the hill | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: | |
| Vin Rock This goes out to the 118th Street Posse | |
| My man J Scratch in the house, y' knowhutI' msayin? | |
| And oh yaeh, pss pss pss pss | |
| Kay Gee Don' t forget, guard your grill, knuckle up! | |
| Treach A strong what up to my man Kid Capri | |
| KG This goes out to my man Jack Don | |
| I gotta say what' s up to my man Pop Dezzy Dezza | |
| T What' s up to Clark Kent and my man Face! | |
| KG This goes out to my man Fitz and the whole Down The Hill | |
| Cos they know how to definitely guard they grill | |
| Vinny I gotta say what' s up to my man Dre and Easy in the house | |
| T This goes out to my man Tamere | |
| He' s definitely in here | |
| What' s up to my homey Kool G Rap and my Brand Nubian brothers | |
| Special shoutout to my man Grand Puba, one of the fiercest MC' s out | |
| there | |
| Peace goes out! | |
| Vinny Peace to my man Frank Ben, we outta here | |
| PEACE! |