Who Taught You

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[Intro: cowbell and congas lock in, a grill sizzles]

[Hook: call and response, young male rapper then deep older male rapper]
[Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it?
[Son] I got the bars, I got the time
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it?

[Verse 1: young male rapper, cocky]
Pops, you rap like the weather report, slow and partly cloudy
Socks with sandals at the cookout, buddy, you lookin' rowdy
Your flow got a pension, your flow got a bad knee
Your flow need a nap at two and a ride to the doctor at three
I'm the new edition, you the warranty card in the drawer
You still flip burgers with a fork, and you wonder what the spatula's for
Uncles on the porch laughin', cousins on the trampoline
You had your summer, old man. This one mine. Respect the regime

[Hook: call and response]
[Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it?
[Son] I got the bars, I got the time
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it?

[Verse 2: deep older male rapper, slow, then vicious]
Son, I was rappin' at this grill when your mama was a rumor
I was rhymin' at the block party back when you was a stroller and a bumper
Your first bars on my napkin, crayon, spelled "rap" with a K
I kept it in my wallet thirty years, and I'ma read it out today
Every joke you just told is mine, with the punchline in the wrong place
You owe me back pay on the socks line, I said it 'fore you had a face
Got your swagger on loan, son, and the loan come with interest
I'm the bank and the branch and the vault. Go 'head. Make a withdrawal. Finish

[Flow switch: verse 3, trading two lines each, faster, cowbell louder]
[Son] Your hairline got a forwarding address, it moved without tellin' you
[Dad] My hairline paid for your braces, so smile while you yellin' it, fool
[Son] I got a crowd in the yard, they don't even know your name
[Dad] They know it. You wearin' it. Read the back of the shirt. Same name
[Son] Alright, old man, you got one. Hand me a plate, you can have the chair
[Dad] Nah, son. You stand. Flip the ribs. I'm the one that taught you there

[Final Hook: both voices, laughing through it]
[Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it?
[Son] I got the bars, I got the time
[Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it?

[Outro: both men laughing, cowbell stops]
[End]

2383/7500

[Intro: cowbell and congas lock in, a grill sizzles] [Hook: call and response, young male rapper then deep older male rapper] [Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it? [Son] I got the bars, I got the time [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it? [Verse 1: young male rapper, cocky] Pops, you rap like the weather report, slow and partly cloudy Socks with sandals at the cookout, buddy, you lookin' rowdy Your flow got a pension, your flow got a bad knee Your flow need a nap at two and a ride to the doctor at three I'm the new edition, you the warranty card in the drawer You still flip burgers with a fork, and you wonder what the spatula's for Uncles on the porch laughin', cousins on the trampoline You had your summer, old man. This one mine. Respect the regime [Hook: call and response] [Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it? [Son] I got the bars, I got the time [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it? [Verse 2: deep older male rapper, slow, then vicious] Son, I was rappin' at this grill when your mama was a rumor I was rhymin' at the block party back when you was a stroller and a bumper Your first bars on my napkin, crayon, spelled "rap" with a K I kept it in my wallet thirty years, and I'ma read it out today Every joke you just told is mine, with the punchline in the wrong place You owe me back pay on the socks line, I said it 'fore you had a face Got your swagger on loan, son, and the loan come with interest I'm the bank and the branch and the vault. Go 'head. Make a withdrawal. Finish [Flow switch: verse 3, trading two lines each, faster, cowbell louder] [Son] Your hairline got a forwarding address, it moved without tellin' you [Dad] My hairline paid for your braces, so smile while you yellin' it, fool [Son] I got a crowd in the yard, they don't even know your name [Dad] They know it. You wearin' it. Read the back of the shirt. Same name [Son] Alright, old man, you got one. Hand me a plate, you can have the chair [Dad] Nah, son. You stand. Flip the ribs. I'm the one that taught you there [Final Hook: both voices, laughing through it] [Son] Sit down, old man, the grill is mine [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to light it? [Son] I got the bars, I got the time [Dad] Boy, who taught you how to write it? [Outro: both men laughing, cowbell stops] [End]

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