Chris Brown
Chris Brown - Now That's Grindin (Grindin' Freestyle) lyrics
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(feat. Paul Cain, Joe Budden) Uh, I'm a motherfuckin' ghetto superstar nigga Uh, you ain't know? Look at me you see me Street Family [Fabolous:] Right you can lie and gossip to And later on be the guy who the mobsters do And right now you can try and prosecute But later on you 'gon die in the hospital [Verse 1: Fabolous] I'm the guy thats responsible Denyin' is impossible You ever have a nigga thats tryin' to sponser you? You can die like them mobsters do Actin' like gangstas, like Denzel you guys should get Oscars to Call them guys in ya hostle crew Before they get holes in they face the size of they nostrils to Street Family abide by the mobster rules Visors and Oscar shoes Not on the Coster suits You can tell I'm fly by my posture boo Get in to the thighs of a prostitute And buy her a popsicle Thats why you hear lots of oooohs They ain't ever seen a ghetto superstar like me I'll show you how to do this young'n I ain't frontin' these Jordans ain't comin' I'm in the island of Saint something Keep the complaints comin' nigga [Verse 2: Paul Cain] Yo a hustles a hustle from ghetto to ghetto In a 4.6 Range Rov Canarie Yellow and metal Muzzle to muzzle for hit movement I'm a stop ya blood flow if ya try to stop my chip movement I be on strips doin' My grind thing brick movin' Flood the cross for the thick cuban In a town in the South In the spot 4 pound in the couch Came back, four thou off a ounce Alls it takes is a quarter of brick And a half a pound of dro get ya grind game and all them pitched Got the crack and the weed up Flip that, pop a dice game, catch a jook and put 'em back with the re-up Thats grindin' Fo' Fo' tucked in the lining Get low when them hot ones flyin' Come at me wrong you dyin' No lyin' [Verse 3: Joe Budden] Hey dog, we not familar Cross me I'm a pop and kill ya Its Joe Budden, in the streets they call me Glocks For Hire Before I was Jump Off I was Ox's supplier Ya'll passin' the Rosay for Joe I'm part time Kiser Sosay's actin coach Nowadays dog, I don't hear rappers Fuck bars, we could all get the fours out and play Fear Factor Move the brick Rug on my hip But Skane keep talkin' that music shit Its nothin' Let the game know ya mans on the come up First week soundscan I'm doin' Spider-Man numbers Cars, jewels, casinos and up Try and ball like Paul Pierce I'll Benzino you up Man ya crews decoys Desert Storm use these toys Bite the bullet like Bruce Leroy Get right with me Newest king in the league like Mike Bibby I'm a show you how to do this son Don't front cause the V so fine And when I'm in the strip club they don't pay Mr. Cheeks no mind Had 'em gun blind Cameras wan't mine But they big men soft like the Dallas Frontline Max Payne never seen a car like it First nigga to move weight from a Palm Pilot