Joe Budden - Grand Theft Audio lyrics

[Fabolous] Yeah, uh huh, uh, uh Ghetto! Oh yeah Please believe it, believe it please Uh, Desert Storm, okay, that's right, uh Street Family, yeah They call me G-H-E-T-T-O [DJ Envy - overlapping Fabolous intro] New Fabolous, Paul Cain, Joe Buddens This sh**'s called Grand Theft Audio C'mon maan! [Fabolous] The kid's usually armed Especially since I put canary j**els in the charm and a mule on my arm (Yeah!) And find who you fools wanna harm Make sure ya kids wear a vest underneath they school uniform (C'mon) The pound slugs look like combos A couple in the face will make celebrities look like John Doe's (Who dat?) I'll show ya'll what the X7 look like almost (Yeah) Private jet interiors that look like condos Ya security look like Arnold But he never had so many stitches in his head, they look like cornrows (Uh ugh) Two long Desert Eag's, four on the chest It feel like you got no shirt in the Tuscon desert heat Crib got large screen cinema, garage look similar To looking in a Dupont registry I'm a**uming you cats spread rumors like that Cause you never seen ya moms speak wit a aluminum bat Ghetto [Joe Budden] OK thugs, call the troops, tell them load they slugs (Buddens) In the closet is the long nose and O.J. gloves I don't care what type burner ya using Gangsta it out, let's put the heat down, do some furniture moving Look, tried and acquitted Rap s**ers, all ya lives I lived it, remember I'm the guy that did it Who drives the 6's? Dogs, you can't ball out No matter how much you customize ya Civics Block work, Glock work, give him CPR (For what?) For trying to play his A-dat in a VCR Keep on following Scarface, I'm plotting a car chase Stop! It's Jumpoff wit Desperado's guitar case I ain't gotta call on hounds (Why?) When ya guns is like the last Lennox Lewis fight, short on rounds I'm used to dra-ma, ride wit the tool and hammer All you young rap dudes is bammers [Paul Cain] Don't let me out of my cage, the world ain't ready for Cain The black talons and the calico confetti ya brain I rock Lacoste, the kid wit the toaster is back No top, sitting on 20's opposed to them black Hang rappers from helicopters, Sosa of rap I don't talk, I pull toasters, approach ya, and clap I still hustle c**a and crack Just got in the game and already platinum posters and plaques I don't write, I speak what I feel And pop off po's dog, I don't need a reason to k** I'm like 2 weeks from a deal, like 2 g's from a mil Right hand, few feet from the steel They wonder how I flow so strong Cause I live what I spit, my smallest hammer is a 44 long I spit pain rap, when Cain clap, duck for cover Hot hanger, torch ya girl, and pluck ya mother Always ready to clash wit titans And the princesses in my watch look like a flash of lightning Same box I got for the gun you stash ya ice in Make n***as sell they soul and cash they life in Motherf**er! [DJ Envy] People's choice Don't forget Desert Storm My man Kah, Paul Cain, Fabolous, Joe Buddens Fat shout Varcity clothing line My man James A.D Desert Storm mixtape Volume 1 Blok Party You know!