Method Man - Grand Prix lyrics

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Method Man - Grand Prix lyrics

[Intro] Ah, lord, mm-hmm, yo Get it Twenty five years and we still going Yeah Dame Grease He's a bad boy Look [Verse 1] I'm a smoker (Yeah), weed toker The cola in your coka Losing change up in your sofa I brought change into the culture (Uh) Funny how these pigeons try and change into a vulture You's a poser, wit' pork all on your fork and that ain't kosher No sir, I never put a penny in a loafer For good times up in the ghetto, we had penny and Willona (Uh) You know I stretch a quarter, got a rock 'cause I'm a roller And I'm bolder than a hard rock is 'cause I'm a stoner I need closure (Uh), and you rappers need to wake up And smell the begonias You about to be gones Big shot caller, I'm here to pop them corners Little league ballers could get popped, I warned ya Who put the person in persona, putting hands up on a person Close the curtain on the Rama Pack a Llama, catch me lurking I'm your karma Sleeping on me even worse'll get you murked in your pajamas [Chorus] You can try, but you'll never understand me I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a Grand Prix I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee That's a guarantee Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee [Verse 2] I'm still working on them commas While the system tryna curve me Ain't no mercy from your honor (Nah) That's the problem, when you coming from the bottom Couldn't even get Bin Laden 'til we voted for Obama (Facts) I ain't a minor, "Teen Spirit" ain't Nirvana Call me pro meth, It's clear this kinda syrup ain't Jemima's Baby mama drama, tryna act like she Madonna Like a virgin, but I'm certain that this person a piranha Man eater, Jeffrey Dahmer If a stray hit a stan and k** a fan that's Kitana A rapper getting roasted in a room, that's a sauna Straps in the room, It's Shaolin vs. the Lama Why should I threat when I can promise With that money saved for college You can go and pay me homage (Yeah) If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid By the time you check your pockets I already got ya wallet [Chorus] You can try, but you'll never understand me I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a Grand Prix I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee