Grip Grand

To say that Grip Grand has an unassuming manner would be an understatement, but then again, in the words of the illustrious Guru from Gangstarr, “it’s mostly the voice that gets you up”. Upon meeting the introverted Grand, legendary rapper A.G., who had earlier heard a few tracks and was duly impressed with his emceeing skills, gave him a pound and said, “So where’s this Grip Grand?” But if Grip Grand is self-effacing, it’s only to maintain his privacy, which can be a difficult trait to stick with when you’re making rap music.

As far as the music goes, Grip and hip hop are about the same age, so his earliest influences outside of jazz and soul naturally include Eric B and Rakim, Masta Ace, Big Daddy Kane, Kool G Rap and the like. Like a lot of kids who literally grew up with hip hop, Grip started collecting records to sample at a young age, eventually got some equipment, and pretty much stayed in his room making 4 track beats.

Staying in your room, however, can be challenging when your family moves around a lot, as Grip’s did during the early years. Grip once had twenty phone numbers in just three short years and has lived as far north as Portland and as far south as LA, putting down roots in almost every major city in between. But he identifies mostly with the Bay Area, where prolonged bouts of unemployment in San Francisco and Oakland inspired his 1999 limited edition debut, “Welcome to Broakland” (Bomb Hip-Hop), a collection of rap songs for rap’s sake, music for the broke and the broke at heart. Which is how he came to be acquainted with San Francisco’s DJ Design, who heard that cd and tracked him down. So much for keeping a low profile.

Impressed with Grip’s gritty but soulful voice, and natural ability for timing and phrasing, Design envisioned working with him on a more elaborate, full-scaled effort; and so a super-collabo project was born. A talented beatmaker in his own right, a good portion of the album’s production will be credited to Grip himself. "Poppin' Pockets", his debut recording for Look Records features none other than the aforementioned A.G. of Showbiz and A.G. and D.I.T.C. fame and sets in motion the emergence of one of Northern Cali’s most talented new artists.

When Grip's not making music, he spends his time painstakingly cataloguing his extensive record collection and preparing to retire his longtime penchant for anonymity.

The full length album BROKELORE by Grip Grand coming March 25th, 2008.

album tracklisting
01. Showtime (That's Entertainment)
02. Hip-Hop Classic
03. Win the War
04. Tomorrow
05. Handle That
06. But Anyway
07. Paper Cup featuring Percee P
08. Love/Drama
09. A Penny featuring Richie Cunning
10. 96 Tears (MF Shalem’s Talk About It Mix)
11. Out of Service
12. Poppin' Pockets Remix featuring A.G.
13. Mr. Versatility
14. Remember the Time featuring Darondo

Grip Grand on MySpace



“96 Tears (MF Shalem’s Talk About It Mix)”
Written by Grip Grand/G. Winogrond for Broakland Music, BMI
Produced by MF Shalem for MF Shalem

Verse:
I’m comin’ back still starvin’ like the depression.
This shit is depressin’, rap is in a recession.
At every session,
Known to shut ‘em down like
When slugs fly, doves cry—this is what it sound like.
Who wanna battle Grip?
You say that your mic is a cannon? Well, mine’s like the whole fuckin’ battleship.
Extravagant, rappers get lost—it’s like “Labyrinth”.
Hazardous, hungry on the mic? No, I’m ravenous!
Slide up in the cut and I slice ‘em like radishes.
Savages! Get up again like young Lazarus.
Tell me I should get to the point? I spit javelins.
Well known for rollin’ up stoned like Mick Jagger is.
Ain’t that a bitch?
I’m it, and you never is.
Hirin’, firin’—this is my severance.
This is my Everest. High? I’m like heaven is!
Treacherous! On the block droppin’ like Tetris.
Entertainin’ like Cedric, big in all measurements.
Pullin’ out the microphone quick with no hesitance.
The first one to switch up his flow—there’s no precedent.
A brand new kind of sick—there’s no test for it.
Live from Broakland where I am the sole resident.
We can take it out to the curb and go settle it,
Or we can take it out to the curb and go peddle it.
The mixtape is comin’ in first like gold medalists.
Give ‘em like a hundred bars, I’m so generous.
Spit like a cobra except I’m more venomous.
When I’m in the booth I’m showin’ ‘em no friendliness.
Leave ‘em with a heart-shaped hole and a cold emptiness.
Theft is just a permanent loan with no interest.
Squeeze the microphone like I’m holdin’ a four-fifth and just
Bucka-bucka-ba-blau! The style’s so ridiculous!
Gifts like Saint Nicholas, bitch—it ain’t Christmas.
Shinin’ like Mr. Clean, I’m so Listermint.
Not Special Ed, but I’m the magnificent.
Start it, I finish it. Pardon my penmanship.
A-Team, all in your face like Dirk Benedict.
Thanks, but don’t mention it.
Rappin’s my job—I’m so into it, and our relationship is so intimate.
Try a lil’ tenderness,
I’m always hurtin’ somebody’s feelings, ‘cuz all of these guys are real sensitive.
Hey, you’re not fresh—what the fuck is your style for?
I’m sorry, but the truth is inconvenient like Al Gore.
Grip known to give ‘em that
Golden Age vintage rap
For the babies—start ‘em on it young like it’s Similac.
Been a mack, close range, spray like a mini-Mac.
Don’t wear a chain—no cable, no Cinemax.
Send it to the label and I hope they don’t send it back…
Put it in the number one spot like it’s handicapped.
Hand me that mic, I’ma kill it like “Handle That”.
All the time spent sweatin’ bullet shells in the lab…
The best motherfuckin’ cassette your deck ever have.
“You call this an album?”
No, it’s y’all epitaph!
If you don’t know about the Rec, then you better ask.
Screamin’ out “Fuck everyone!” like I’m Everlast.
On the microphone, beat it up like a heavy bag.
Grip Grand, hard like a rock? I’m a Chevy ad!
Lemme add, risin’ to the top like a helipad.
Stop—Grip pick it up like a yellow cab.
I tried tell ‘em that
I was on smash, and they jaw made of glass like the shoe Cinderella had!
Ain’t have to go to Photo-Mat to develop that
Felon rap. Step to the flow, get your melon cracked.
Grip been on hella tracks. This is not new to me.
The rhyme shine bright like this is my jewelery.
Quit your tomfoolery.
Snikkt!! I’m like Wolverine—
Super-powered spitter like this is my mutant gene.
I’m takin’ over the ship—it’s like mutiny.
Had tapes back in the 80’s like Brucie B.
Don’t front! Flow serious like I’m Steady B,
Plus always bigger and better like Beni B.
Yellow flag down on the play? That’s a penalty.
Let it bleed,
On the d-lo like a centipede.
Lemme breathe…need another clip, ‘cuz I emptied these.
All day, dazed and confused like the 70’s.
Sail like the seven seas
On these so-called MCs—I don’t call myself shit but the letter “G”.
Styles you could never see, kinda like camouflage.
All year in the workshop like I’m Santa Claus.
Grip, and I am the boss. Kept the hammer cocked,
Rhyme book full of hot lead like an ammo box.
Can we talk about it like Alcoholics Anonymous?
Ominous, study my dough like economists.
Broke like a promise is…
Boy, I get deep! 20, 000 leagues under the sea like the Nautilus.
We like to party, but, bitch, it’s not Carnival.
Change up the play like this is my audible.
This is my chronicle. It’s almost time to go.
Grip known for makin’ ‘em jump like Geronimo!
All my flow’s fire, so don’t stand in front of me.
Send ‘em to the principal’s office like Young MC.
Oh, no! It’s gonna be a riot in here,
So get the cops and the firemen here on the double, G!
Yeah! I’m the Double G—Grip Grand, the ultimate bad man,
So you should be glad there’s just one of me.
Nasty as I wanna be, rappers can’t fuck with me,
96 bars—what more do y’all want from me?!?