Released: June 23, 1992
Songwriter: Rakim
Producer: Eric B.
[Verse 1]
Pass the hand grenade, it's gonna blow 'cause I took out the pin
Detached the detonator, data sent
Programmed with protons, equipped with predicates
Electrons and elements just fit
Your pronoun hits the ground and that's that
Hit the floor like a meteor so get back
Commas and quotation marks separate the sparks
Followed the course in to avoid getting sharked
More volts than a lightning bolt, handle with care
I'm far from fragile, warfare won't tear
Armed and dangerous, trained for combat
Let off rounds and they won't respond back
Explosions I made to invade your parade
Your weak beats decay til they can't get played
Wrong elements in the mic, they get sprayed
Pass the hand grenade
[Verse 2]
After the stage gets warm, I heat it up
The crowd gets charged, I speed it up
They couldn't get warm, gimme a cut
The rhyme gets good, so eat it up
Food for thought until your thoughts is sore
Fill up a coliseum, I can serve them all
Bake another plate, and cook it far from raw
And if you're overweight, then here's some more
'Cause every dish I make tastes great and plus filling
If I sold a third of my rhymes, I make a killing
Get the salt and pepper from the maid
Get the blood off the blade, pass the hand grenade
[Verse 3]
If you try this, your response is tonsillitis
I'm leaving authors and writers with arthritis
You got the slightest ideas, I got the brightest
Here's the lightest, so clear, it's out of sight, it's
Dark, but from the darkness, came the light
The night is the time for Ra to recite it
Educated, but complicated style
For all the biters, I'm shutting rappers up like Midas
I got the force of a Turbo Porsche
You get lost in the source and then thrown off course
You can't destroy the decoy's to detour
No sense of direction so what's your speed for
You wouldn't have never made it, how many styles have I created
So many rhymes I bust, you're frustrated
Then the mic will self-destruct, you'll get sprayed
Pass the hand grenade
Pass the hand grenade, it's gonna blow 'cause I took out the pin
Detached the detonator, data sent
Programmed with protons, equipped with predicates
Electrons and elements just fit
Your pronoun hits the ground and that's that
Hit the floor like a meteor so get back
Commas and quotation marks separate the sparks
Followed the course in to avoid getting sharked
More volts than a lightning bolt, handle with care
I'm far from fragile, warfare won't tear
Armed and dangerous, trained for combat
Let off rounds and they won't respond back
Explosions I made to invade your parade
Your weak beats decay til they can't get played
Wrong elements in the mic, they get sprayed
Pass the hand grenade
[Verse 2]
After the stage gets warm, I heat it up
The crowd gets charged, I speed it up
They couldn't get warm, gimme a cut
The rhyme gets good, so eat it up
Food for thought until your thoughts is sore
Fill up a coliseum, I can serve them all
Bake another plate, and cook it far from raw
And if you're overweight, then here's some more
'Cause every dish I make tastes great and plus filling
If I sold a third of my rhymes, I make a killing
Get the salt and pepper from the maid
Get the blood off the blade, pass the hand grenade
[Verse 3]
If you try this, your response is tonsillitis
I'm leaving authors and writers with arthritis
You got the slightest ideas, I got the brightest
Here's the lightest, so clear, it's out of sight, it's
Dark, but from the darkness, came the light
The night is the time for Ra to recite it
Educated, but complicated style
For all the biters, I'm shutting rappers up like Midas
I got the force of a Turbo Porsche
You get lost in the source and then thrown off course
You can't destroy the decoy's to detour
No sense of direction so what's your speed for
You wouldn't have never made it, how many styles have I created
So many rhymes I bust, you're frustrated
Then the mic will self-destruct, you'll get sprayed
Pass the hand grenade
- Don’t Sweat the Technique (1992)
- Paid in Full
- I Ain’t No Joke
- My Melody
- Follow the Leader
- I Know You Got Soul
- Microphone Fiend
- Eric B. Is President
- Juice (Know the Ledge)
- Don’t Sweat the Technique
- As the Rhyme Goes On
- Lyrics of Fury
- In The Ghetto
- Mahogany
- Let the Rhythm Hit ’Em
- Move the Crowd
- What’s On Your Mind
- No Competition
- Paid in Full (Seven Minutes of Madness – The Coldcut Remix)
- Casualties of War
- The Punisher
- No Omega
- Eric B. Is on the Cut
- Musical Massacre
- Kick Along