Lil' Jon & The East Side Boyz - Grand Finale Lyrics
[SIREN sounds][Intro: Lil' John talking]"Yeeeeah! (Yeeeeah!) It's been a long journey getting' tothis mother*****in' point of this Crunk Juice shit. (What?!)But we done got to the last mother*****in' song niggaz(Last shit niggaz!) And I got five of the hottest mother*****in'emcees in the world, givin' you that gangsta shit!IT'S THE MOTHER*****IN' 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 hardenMake it hash up in the oven (Man), put yayo in the hot plateDrain and dry in the freezer, it's obvious we got weightI said hard work, that's soft work even with wet workBuilt-in clientele so we ain't gotta network (Let's go)We always got work, so we ain't gotta get workAnd if you ain't gettin' your work from us you bound to get jerkedWe yayo experts, we been whippin' the yola since the crackas decided totake the coke from Coca-ColaHold the rollers, the king of the TrillThe underground as well, you can step in the ring when you feelNigga just sound the bellCan'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 glovesWe gonna start exposin' off like Farhrenheit 9/11[Verse 2: Jadakiss]I'ma speak clearly 'cause I don't think they hearin' meA nigga only fear's gettin' charged with conspiracyI'ca get it right to ya, sticky green white to yaWear whatever you want, bullets goin' right through yaIf you stressin' to get buriedMy niggaz'll send you back to the essence in a hurrySippin' Crunk Juice, blowin' Dutchies in the ChevyTry to figure me out dawg, I'm light but I'm heavyYellow 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 informantsSo I get higher than New York insuranceTry to keep shit clean like FlorenceMoved on up on the East side 'cause I never lost enduranceAnd it's all real niggaz, if I ever get a license to carryShit, that's a license to kill niggaz[Verse 3: T.I.]I refuse to lose, I rather give these weak dudes the bluesAnd separate them from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and do'sI raise tools, make crews make decisions confusedAll spectators can say is, "This lil' nigga's a fool"A short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewedBetter prove, you niggaz ***** as the Moulan RougeSo who guardin' who, you know who to you know whatTo you know where, goin' 'gainst 'em's too unfair'Cause everywhere you do a show he got kinfolk thereNow you know I ain't no ?, I got ten folk thereThey ain't powerful as the one at the end of your prayerGot you runnin' for your life without a minute to spareCatch you dead to the granite, melt the grease in your hairWhen I go, them boys is gonna be indecent affairGuarantee you nah a real nigga breathin' accountedAt your funeral, just your parents and the preacher was thereHollow, television name-dropper reachin' for helpSo I ain't gotta say a word, pimp you beatin' ya'selfYou gon' get what you deserve for disrespectin' the gameAny nigga with the nerve to say another man nameWhen that other man ain't even presentAnd deny it when somebody ask him about itThat nigga's a lame, you like to lie on the micHide behind fame, I was a G when I cameThat's the way I remain[Verse 4: Nas]Who besides the Egyptian-walker, *****ers have a conniptionMy existence persistent to bring foes misfortuneI dazzle 'em, like the alderman, Billy Dee in Mahogany, minus the permFrom the tiniest sperm that the mightiest The Almighty can musterProject prophet, chronic blockage gives Alzheimer's to youngstersAmongst them is me, can't remembers my beefsWith who? For what? They screw-face me up, my boo laced me upBolinsiaga, flimsy condo with bimbos in south of Kalan Gro in pimp modeThe inf' glow on his clothes and you know it's overHammer hit pin, pin hit shell, from the shell the slug gonna chew yaTry not to lose me, I try not to lose'yaMamma say mamma sa mu makasa, fly to CubaTo chill with some politi-kill niggaz who ill'Cause y'all niggaz are losers, don't get comfortable niggaSay hello to Mr. Bad Guy, get that cash par, I'm the last donYou'll ever know so, here you go y'all can take these thoughtsAnyway I'm chargin' emcees a late fee costSo when y'all done with my style, please break me offBut never make Nas mad just in case cross'Cause ah, lately y'all don't make me happyTo calm my nerve I need the herb GNC don't carry[Verse 5: Ice Cube]Who the ***** is that? It's Ice Cube mother*****aHe's a maniac, no I'ma fool mother*****aOld school mother*****a, blow through a mother*****aWhat you heard about a nigga so true mother*****aSee I'm ugly and prettay, I'm polished and grittayShoot better than that nigga that tried to kill 50See, niggaz get shittay when I come to their cittayWhen I hit the spot that ***** they like -- she cummin' with meCause I got an ego big as TO, but I'm not an Eagle*****, I roll with Rigo 'cause gangstas don't dance we boogieI told you mother*****as Kobe didn't take that *****Get money, get paid, you can beat that shitEven if the DA is a piece'a shitColorado got movatos, don't eat that shitAnother White ***** lyin' on thee Black dickI keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'LacsGive niggaz flashbacks, they sweaty as ass cracksWhen I hit the tar mat, it feel like a carjackNiggaz get out and vanish like Star TreksSo *****in incredible, I'm so *****in' credibleNo matter what happen, I'll never turn federalAnd that's my report comin' straight from CaliIce Cube is the shit on this mother*****in' Grand Finale
