Chris Brown

Chris Brown - Now That's Grindin (Grindin' Freestyle) songtekst

Je score:

(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
Vind dit lied op:
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Taal: Engels

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