Текст песни Finale - M
Lil
Jon
& The
East
Side
Boyz
- Grand
Finale
[SIREN
sounds]
[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
Lil'
John
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