T.I. "Grand Finale" |
GRAND FINALE FT. LIL' JON, BUN B, NAS, JADAKISS, ICE CUBE INTRO (Lil' Jon) [Bun B] Yeah! (Yeeeaaaahh!) It's been a long journey get to this mutha fuckin' point (Yuh...yuh...yuh) On this Crunk Juice shit (What!) But we done got 'til the last mutha fuckin' song (Shit niggas shit niggas) And I got 5 of the mutha fuckin' hottest MCs in the world [Okay] Givin' you that gansta shit [It's UGK for life.....] It's the mutha fuckin' Grande Finale....! [Free Pimp C....Free Pimp C!] VERSE 1 (Bun B) Say, we growin' dosier in the basement in that underwater garden (Okay) With heron in the back, shit dry 'til it harden Bakin' hash up in the oven (damn), with yayo on the hot plate And drinkin' Prime and Freezy, it's obvious we got weight I said hard for that soft while keepin' that wet work Built-in clientelle so we ain't gotta network (thats cold) We always got work, so we ain't gotta get work And if you ain't gettin' your work from us you bound to get gerbery The yayo experts, we been whippin' anyola Since the records decided to take the coke out Coca-Cola (hola) Hola rollas the king of the trill The underground as well you can step in the ring when you feel Nigga just sound the bell They say now haters in this game but the grind of lovin' (lovin') And then we passed on that pushin' man, its time for shovin' I got the mask I got the straps As soon as I find the glove, then we gon' start exposin' oak like Darren Hayer at the least VERSE 2 (Jadakiss) (AHAE!) I'mma speak cleary, cuz I don't think they here me (uh-uh) A nigga only fears gettin' charged with conspiracy I can get it right to ya, sticky green white to ya Wear whatever you want, bullet gonin' right through ya (uh) If you stressin' if you buried (uh) My niggas'll send you back to the essence in a hurry (yea) Sippin' Crunk Juice, blowin' dutches in the Chevy (uh) Try to figure me out dawg, I'm light but I'm heavy (ah) Yellow lemon heads in the bezzy of the prezzy And yeah anybody can rock, but D-Block rock steady (D-Block!) FEDs don't need no warrants, cuz y'all all informants So I get higher than New York insurance Try to keep shit clean like Florence, moved on up On the Eastside, cuz I never lost endurance And, it's all real niggas (yeah) And if I ever get a license to carry, shit, that's a license to kill niggas VERSE 3 (T.I.) I refuse to lose, I'd rather give these weak dudes the blues Then separate 'em from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and dos I raise tools, make crews, make decisions, confuse All spectators can say is, 'This lil' nigga's a fool!' The short fuse with some lose screws, some unscrewed Here to prove, you niggas puss-ass the Moulin Rouge So who done who, you-know-who, The you-know-what, or the you-know-where Gonin' 'gainst 'em's too unfair Cuz everywhere you do a show, we got kinfolk there Now you know, I aim to murder 9 of 10 folk there They ain't powerful, that's the one at the end of your prayer Gotcha runnin' for your life without a minute to spare Catch ya dead to the right and not the grease in your hair When I go to war it's gon' be an indecent afair Guarantee you nev'r real nigga breathin' that caddin' At your funeral just your parents and the preacher was there I don't tell a vision name, drop and reachin' for help So I ain't gotta say a word, pimp, you beatin' yourself You gon' get what you deserve for disrespectin' the game Any nigga with the nerve to say another man name When that other man ain't even present And deny it when somebody ask him about it, that nigga's a lame Like to, lie on the mic, hide behind fame I was a G when I came, thats the way a remain (he lame) VERSE 4 (Nas) (Uh..uh..yea....) Who is I? The Egyptian walker, fuckers have a kannipshin My existence, persistent to bring foes misfortune I dazzle 'em, like the aldeman Billy Dee and Mahoghany, minus the perm, from the tiniest sperm That the mightiest the Almighty can muster? Project prophet, chronic blockers gives alls, I miss the youngsters Amongst them is me, can't remembers my beefs With who, for what? They screw-faced me up, my boo laced me up Belenciaga, flimsy combos with bimbos in south of Key Largo In pimp mode, the inf. glow on his clothes and you know its over Hammer hit pin, pin hit shell, from the shell: the slug on and chewed ya Try not to lose me I'll try not to lose ya Momma say, 'Mammasa bo maccosa' pull outta Cuba The chill with some pelip to kill, niggas are ill Cuz y'all niggas are losers Don't get comfortable niggas, say hello to Mr. Bad Guy Get that cash far, I'm the last Don you'll ever know, so Here you go, y'all can take these thoughts Anyway I'm chargin' MCs a late fee cost So when y'all done with my style please break me off But never make Nas made, just in case we cross Cuz ah, lately y'all don't make me happy To calm my nerve I need the herb GNC don't carry VERSE 5 (Ice Cube) (Who the fuck is that?) It's Ice Cube mutha fucker (He's a maniac) No I'm a fool mutha fucker Old school mutha fucker, blow through a mutha fucker What you heard about a nigga so true mutha fucker See I'm ugly and pretty, I'm polished and gritty True, better than that nigga that tried to kill 50 See, niggas get shitty when I come to they city When I hit the spot that bitch they like, she comin' with me Cuz, I got an ego, big as T.O. But, I'm not an Eagle, bitch, I roll a Rego Cuz, ganstas don't dance we boogie I told you mutha fuckers: Kobe didn't take that pussy Get money, get paid, you can beat that shit Even if the D.A. is a peice of shit Colorado got bravado, but, eat that shit Another white bitch lying on the black dick I keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'Lacs Give niggas flashbacks, they sweaty as ass cracks When I hit the tarmack, it feel like a car jack Niggas get out, and vanish like Star Trek So fuckin' incredible, I'm so fuckin' credible No matter what happen, I'll never turn federal And that's my report, comin' straight from Cali Ice Cube is the shit on this mutha fuckin' Grand Finale! Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |