Lil' Jon

Lil' Jon - Grand Finale lyrics

[Intro: Lil' John talking]

"Yeeeeah! (Yeeeeah!) It's been a long journey getting' to

This motherfuckin' point of this Crunk Juice shit. (What?!)

But we done got to the last motherfuckin' song niggaz

(Last shit niggaz!) And I got five of the hottest motherfuckin'

Emcees in the world, givin' you that gangsta shit!

IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKIN' GRAND FINALE!!!!!!"

[Verse 1: Bun B]

We growin' doja in the basement in that underwater garden (Okay)

When hereon in the bank shed, dry it 'til it harden

Make it hash up in the oven (Man), put yayo in the hot plate

Drain and dry in the freezer, it's obvious we got weight

I said hard work, that's soft work even with wet work

Built-in clientele so we ain't gotta network (Let's go)

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 jerked

We yayo experts, we been whippin' the yola since the crackas decided to

Take the coke from Coca-Cola

Hold the rollers, the king of the Trill

The underground as well, you can step in the ring when you feel

Nigga just sound the bell

Can't sound the heaters in this game, but the grind I'm lovin'

Nigga we passed all that pushin', man it's time for shovin'

I got the mask, I got the strap, soon as I find the gloves

We gonna start exposin' off like Farhrenheit 9/11

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]

I'ma speak clearly 'cause I don't think they hearin' me

A nigga only fear's gettin' charged with conspiracy

I'ca get it right to ya, sticky green white to ya

Wear whatever you want, bullets goin' right through ya

If you stressin' to get buried

My niggaz'll send you back to the essence in a hurry

Sippin' Crunk Juice, blowin' Dutchies in the Chevy

Try to figure me out dawg, I'm light but I'm heavy

Yellow lemonheads in the bezzie of the presi'

And yeah, anybody'ca rock but D-Block rock steady (D-Block!)

FED's don't need no warrants 'cause y'all all informants

So I get higher than New York insurance

Try to keep shit clean like Florence

Moved on up on the East side 'cause I never lost endurance

And it's all real niggaz, if I ever get a license to carry

Shit, that's a license to kill niggaz

[Verse 3: T.I.]

I refuse to lose, I rather give these weak dudes the blues

And separate them from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and do's

I raise tools, make crews make decisions confused

All spectators can say is, "This lil' nigga's a fool"

A short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewed

Better prove, you niggaz pussy as the Moulan Rouge

So who guardin' who, you know who to you know what

To you know where, goin' 'gainst 'em's too unfair

'Cause everywhere you do a show he got kinfolk there

Now you know I ain't no ?, I got ten folk there

They ain't powerful as the one at the end of your prayer

Got you runnin' for your life without a minute to spare

Catch you dead to the granite, melt the grease in your hair

When I go, them boys is gonna be indecent affair

Guarantee you nah a real nigga breathin' accounted

At your funeral, just your parents and the preacher was there

Hollow, television name-dropper reachin' for help

So I ain't gotta say a word, pimp you beatin' ya'self

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, you like to lie on the mic

Hide behind fame, I was a G when I came

That's the way I remain

[Verse 4: Nas]

Who besides the Egyptian-walker, fuckers have a conniption

My existence persistent to bring foes misfortune

I dazzle 'em, like the alderman, Billy Dee in Mahogany, minus the perm

From the tiniest sperm that the mightiest The Almighty can muster

Project prophet, chronic blockage gives Alzheimer's to youngsters

Amongst them is me, can't remembers my beefs

With who? For what? They screw-face me up, my boo laced me up

Bolinsiaga, flimsy condo with bimbos in south of Kalan Gro in pimp mode

The inf' glow on his clothes and you know it's over

Hammer hit pin, pin hit shell, from the shell the slug gonna chew ya

Try not to lose me, I try not to lose'ya

Mamma say mamma sa mu makasa, fly to Cuba

To chill with some politi-kill niggaz who ill

'Cause y'all niggaz are losers, don't get comfortable nigga

Say hello to Mr. Bad Guy, get that cash par, I'm the last don

You'll ever know so, here you go y'all can take these thoughts

Anyway I'm chargin' emcees a late fee cost

So when y'all done with my style, please break me off

But never make Nas mad just in case cross

'Cause 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 motherfucka

He's a maniac, no I'ma fool motherfucka

Old school motherfucka, blow through a motherfucka

What you heard about a nigga so true motherfucka

See I'm ugly and prettay, I'm polished and grittay

Shoot better than that nigga that tried to kill 50

See, niggaz get shittay when I come to their cittay

When I hit the spot that bitch they like -- she cummin' with me

Cause I got an ego big as TO, but I'm not an Eagle

Bitch, I roll with Rigo 'cause gangstas don't dance we boogie

I told you motherfuckas Kobe didn't take that pussy

Get money, get paid, you can beat that shit

Even if the DA is a piece'a shit

Colorado got movatos, don't eat that shit

Another White bitch lyin' on thee Black dick

I keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'Lacs

Give niggaz flashbacks, they sweaty as ass cracks

When I hit the tar mat, it feel like a carjack

Niggaz get out and vanish like Star Treks

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 motherfuckin' Grand Finale

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