Grand Finale feat Nas, T.I., Bun B, Ice Cube
Lil Jon & East Side Boyz
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Yeah, it's been a long journey getting to this motherfuckin' point
On this Crunk Juice shit
But we done got to the last motherfuckin' song
And I got five of the hottest motherfuckin' MCs in the world
Giving you that gangsta shit
It's the motherfuckin' grand finale
We growing doja in the basement in that underwater garden
With hash in the back shed, drying 'til it harden
Making hash up in the oven, with dope on the hot plate
Drinking, frying, the freezer, it's obvious we got weight
That hard work, that soft work, even that wet work
Built-in clientele so we ain't gotta network
We always got work so we ain't gotta get work
And if you ain't getting your work from us, you bound to get jerked
The indo experts, we been whipping the yola
Since the crackers decided to take the coke out 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
They say the haters in this game, but the grind I'm loving
Pimping, we past all that pushing, man it's time for shoving
I got the mask, I got the straps soon as I find the glove
Then we gon' start exposing niggas like Fahrenheit 9/11
I'ma speak clearly 'cause I don't think they hearing me
A nigga only fear is getting charged with conspiracy
I can get it right to ya, sticky, green, white to ya
Wear whatever you want, bullets going right through ya
If you stressing to get buried
My niggas will send you back to the essence in a hurry
Sipping Crunk Juice, blowing Dutchies in the Chevy
Try to figure me out dawg, I'm light but I'm heavy
Yellow lemonheads in the bezzy of the prezi
And yeah, anybody could rock but D-Block rock steady
Feds 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 nigga
If I ever get a license to carry, nigga that's a license to kill nigga
I refuse to lose, I'd rather give these weak dudes the blues
And separate 'em 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 unscrews
Here to prove you niggas fucked as the Moulin Rouge
So who gon' move? You know who, the you know what
Or the you know where, go and get some, too unfair
'Cause everywhere you do a show, we got kinfolk there
Now you know I ain't no more than nine or ten folk there
Name powerful as the one at the end of your prayer
Got you running for your life without a minute to spare
Catch you dead to the right, melt the grease in your hair
When I go to war, it's gon' be an indecent affair
Guarantee you nann real nigga breathing'll care
That at your funeral just your parents and the preacher was there
All on television name dropping, reaching for help
So I ain't gotta say a word, pimp you beating yourself
You gon' get what you deserve for disrespecting 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 and that's the way I remain
The bizarre, the Egyptian, walk off, crackers 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-faced me up
My boo laced me up, Balenciaga
Flimsy convoing bimbos in South Park, Key Largo
In pimp mode, the Inf glow on his clothes and you know it's over
Hammer hit pen, pin hit shell from the shell the slug gon' intrude ya
Try not to lose me, I try not to lose ya
Mama say, mama sa, mama coo sa, fly to Cuba
To chill with some political niggas who ill
'Cause y'all niggas is losers, ho get comfortable niggas
Say hello to Mr. Bad Guy
Get that cash pa, I'm the last don, you'll ever know so
Here you go, y'all can take these thoughts
Anyway I'm charging MCs a late fee cost
So when y'all done with my style, please break me off
But never make Nas mad just in case we cross
'Cause uh, lately, y'all don't make me happy
To calm my nerve I need the herb GNC don't carry
Who the fuck is that? It's Ice Cube motherfucker
He's a maniac, no I'm a fool motherfucker
Old school motherfucker, blow through a motherfucker
What you heard about a nigga so true motherfucker
See I'm ugly and pretty, I'm polished and gritty
Shoot better than that nigga that tried to kill 50
See niggas get high when I come to they city
When I hit the spot, that bitch they like, she coming with me
'Cause I got a ego, big as T.O
But I'm not a eagle, bitch I roll a Regal
'Cause gangstas don't dance, we boogie
I told you motherfuckers, Kobe didn't take that shit
Get money, get paid, you can beat that shit
Even if the D.A. is a piece of shit
Colorado got bravado but eat that shit
Another white bitch lying on the black shit
I keep it flipping like flapjacks, pimping like black 'Lacs
Give bitches flashbacks, they sweaty as pussy cracks
When I hit the tarmac, it feel like a car jack
Niggas get out, and vanish like Star Trek
So fucking incredible, I'm so fucking credible
No matter what happen, I'll never turn federal
And that's my report, coming straight from Cali
Ice Cube is the shit on this motherfucking Grand Finale