T.I. - Grand Finale lyrics

[Intro: Lil Jon talking] "Yeeeeah! (Yeeeeah!) It's been a long journey getting' to This motherf**in' point of this Crunk Juice sh**. (What?!) But we done got to the last motherf**in' song n***as (Last sh** n***as!) And I got five of the hottest motherf**in' Emcees in the world, givin' you that gangsta sh**! IT'S THE MOTHERfu*kIN' GRAND FINALE!!!!!!" [Verse 1: Bun B] We growin' doja in the basement in that underwater garden (Okay) When hereon in the back 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 n***a just sound the bell Can't sound the heaters in this game, but the grind I'm lovin' n***a we pa**ed 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'mma speak clearly cause I don't think they hearin' me A n***a 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 n***as'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 sh** clean like Florence Moved on up on the East side cause I never lost endurance And it's all real n***as, if I ever get a license to carry sh**, that's a license to k** n***as [Verse 3: T.I.] I refuse to lose, I rather give these weak dudes the blues And separate them from they j**els, teach 'em don'ts and do's I raise tools, make crews make decisions confused All spectators can say is, "This lil' n***a's a fool" A short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewed Better prove, you n***as p**y 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 n***a 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 n***a 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 n***a'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, f**ers 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 s**m 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 Balenciaga, flimsy condo with bimbos in south of Key Largo 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-k** n***as who ill Cause y'all n***as are losers, don't get comfortable n***a 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 f** is that? It's Ice Cube motherf**a He's a maniac, no I'mma fool motherf**a Old school motherf**a, blow through a motherf**a What you heard about a n***a so true motherf**a See I'm ugly and prettay, I'm polished and grittay Shoot better than that n***a that tried to k** 50 See, n***as get sh**tay when I come to their cittay When I hit the spot that b**h they like -- she cummin' with me Cause I got an ego big as TO, but I'm not an Eagle b**h, I roll a Regal cause gangstas don't dance we boogie I told you motherf**as Kobe didn't take that p**y Get money, get paid, you can beat that sh** Even if the DA is a piece'a sh** Colorado got bravado, but eat that sh** Another White b**h lyin' on the Black dick I keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'Lacs Give n***as flashbacks, they sweaty as a** cracks When I hit the tarmac, it feel like a carjack n***as get out and vanish like Star Treks So f**in incredible, I'm so f**in' credible No matter what happen, I'll never turn federal And that's my report comin' straight from Cali Ice Cube is the sh** on this motherf**in' Grand Finale