Disposable Income

by Greg Beamish

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released August 1, 2013

Written by Greg Beamish
Vocals by Greg Beamish
Produced, Recorded and Mixed by Stroker Deluca at Deluca Sound Lab
Mastered by The Stunt Man at Suite Sound Labs
Artwork by MIKE



all rights reserved


Greg Beamish Vancouver, British Columbia

Acclaimed Vancouver based hip hop artist Greg Beamish wants to teach you the meaning of "Disposable Income"
with his energizing brand of rap that's seen him travel across Canada and the USA as well as recent gigs throughout Asia. Not to mention, sharing stages with hip hop legends such as Ghostface Killah, Redman and Kool Keith, has allowed this young rapper's career to reach capital gains.
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Track Name: Blaze (feat. Stroker Deluca)
blaze mary Jane's last dance
listening to Tom Petty smoking on a hash plant

homey better pass that puff puff then pass back
you like that I got more in my backpack

that's where my stash at find me where the cash at
trine throw a party best believe I'm gonna crash that

higher than the nasdaq my weed is haz-mat
smoking so much you gonna need a fucking gas mask

every time I blaze cause you know I keep them blunts thick
fine like shorties on my dick cause I run this

I'm a get 'em stoned and then I get em both to tongue kiss
take em to the crib then we get into some dumb shit

bump fists with the homey when you see me
haters keep it moving cause I know you wanna be me

Yo it's still Soak Reamy, the game never change
still a player doing west-coast things and right now I wanna blaze

blaze blaze everyday
always keep a J thats the way we was raised

all we do is just blaze bathe in the haze
every single day that's the way we behave

kick back and blaze blunts with my lunch
all day long got the trees by the bunch

homey I just blazed now I'm feeling trippy
tight green sticky coming out of Van-City
got me all about the blaze
Track Name: Chad Kroeger Money
this track is dedicated to, anyone, thats ever wanted, some money

Verse 1

tired of waiting in line at clubs i'll never get in
I want a bathroom I can play baseball in

I want that Chad Kroeger money racks full of money
black Limousines want em packed full honies

balling at the bar, living like a star
got them royalty checks there's no limit on the card

If you ask me I think raps full of dummies
so fuck your raps sonny want that Chad Kroger Money

talking Nickleback dough, big old bags full
double income cause I live with Avril

so yo Chad Kroeger you my motherfucking idol
and when I grow up I wanna ball just like you.

Verse 2

want that Chad Kroeger Money so that I can buy a boat
lotta people wanna hate him but I think he's fuckin dope

learn the ropes of the game cause I'm taken my steps
to get that Cancon play, start bankin some cheques

I'm like, how can you hate it, cause this dude is the best
and if you hatin on this /then you be hatin success

skipped every single class never Acin a test
but I'm on stage with some bitches with my face in they breasts

so really, fuck all my problems I'm a lay em to rest
I'll get that Chad Kroeger Money start repaying my debts

the homey Chad Kroeger writes songs that are bad
but he makes a lot of money and I think thats fuckin rad
I want that
Track Name: My Shit's Tight (feat. D-Rec)
Verse 1

It's Greg B man I'm back in the game
knocking rappers out the frame with immaculate aim

the smooth kid with the new kicks rolling with two chicks
with huge tits bumping my new shit I cruise with

only fine dimes all the time all the time puffin dimes
you know the kind I'm on my fucking grind

don't fuck with nines whether women or busting caps
don't fuck with gats 'cause this mother-fucker is busting raps

don't pack guns I stack funds and mack huns
you say you strapped son but you never ever pack one

I got two fists built like two bricks with two hits
crack your fucking ribs like toothpicks

my huge dick in your chick every night
I'm the kid that she like when I spit up on mic

because my shit's kind of tight might get me in fight
'cause these marks ain't hype all bark no bite it's like I'm

head and shoulders above the rest I puff the best
fucking green from the west that you'd love to get

having sex in the back of a Lex sipping' a Beck's
maybe giving dick to you ex incredible flex

still I gotta skip to the next
she the tight of chick that let you shit on her chest

consider the steps it takes to get this great
I set the pace mother-fuckers never winning the race

my shits tight x 4

Verse 2

time to celebrate game always elevate
getting hella baked taking honies out on hella dates

the smarter cat with the harder rap giving rappers heart attacks
to they cardiac where the party at ?

in my party hat roll around in a pontiac
Vancity mother-fucker yeah I put it on the map

sipping' cognac with some hoes you think are hard to mack
I hit it from the back where nothing but my Starter hat

one two three four, in the morning
when i leave the club after the show

got the blunts packed full of dro, limo packed full of hoes
your life is like a funeral mine is like the Superbowl

don't mean to sound conceited but you probably won't believe it
when I say that I'm a genius son I say it cause I mean it

got these women on my penis and these haters is the same
'cause they sitting on the bench while I'm playing in the game

son I'm strictly on my grizzy man i'm always making pay
got my money in the bank until the day I got it made

mother-fuckers gave me lemons so I made so lemonade
now I'm chilling like a felon eating melons in the shade

you can tell when I spit that I really is committed
yo my critics wanna dig it but they never would admit it

son I'm wicked fin to get it in this business I'm a pro
smooth kid in the fitted and I'm fin to let you know

my shit's tight
Track Name: Terry Fox
Verse 1

I run canada call me terry fox
coast to coast trips take the ferry lots

the man was a legend cause he never stopped
running too much game i could never walk

find me on the highway running it
call me Terry cause I never ever quit

Let me tell who you other runners running with
Terry Fox Terry Fox and I'm running *hit

running game running lanes like Usain
its a new day I'm about to do things

run a marathon one night for recovery
call me Terry fox 'cause I run the country


I run Canada call me Terry Fox x 4

Verse 2

run the country but my name ain't Steven Harper
running things cause my rap game even harder

my advice to these guys to don't even bother
realize Im a come back even stronger

running tracks hundred stacks
run the map Terry Fox running that

running laps I'm a mother-fuckin running back
give me the cash then i'll mother-fuckin run it back

running it like Terry, that cancer shit is scary
I'm doing it for him and my mom I had to bury

Terry Fox ran the marathon of hope
marijuana smoke got me on that marathon of dope
Track Name: Greg Beamish (feat. Elaine 'Lil Bit Shepherd)
Verse 1

Who Am I?
the tight young rapper on your block getting props 
gotta pocket full of crops it never stops

It ain't no thing the city guy looking fly
rolling with a couple dimes all the time always living wild

you know my steez the playa that you know
clocking dough rocking shows rolling downtown with a flock of hoes

It's Greg B the hot voice, on the mic, the top choice 
guaranteed to keep the twat moist 

guaranteed macking plenty always acting friendly
sipping Henny getting drunk at the back of Denny's 

grand slam packing bitches in the Grand Am 
in the back packing pork like it's canned ham 

bad man I slam cans until I can't stand 
stack grands with the rap got some made plans

west-coast you now rocking with the newest loc
with that super flow these bitches go stupid for 

Who Am I?

Chorus: la la la la Greg Beamish  x 4

Verse 2

Mr B they call me Triple Beam 
I'm on the scene spitting clean like it's Listerine

spit it out got the wicked clout homey got it figured out 
when in doubt know you gotta whip it out

no doubt going all out balls out 
money in my pocket falls out when I ball out

call the shots get your weak crew to call the cops
I'm on the block like a chop getting all the props 

Who am I? a fucking player that don't fucking care 
keep the game fresh like Tupperware 

out the box yo I hit it to the triple deck 
triple threat sipping on that Triple Sec

Triple X yo the kid got a little game 
my little fame steady building up my little name 

Greg Bizzy live my life do or die super fly 
getting high since I was a juvenile 

Who Am I?  

Chorus: la la la la Greg Beamish  x 4