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[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
I just touched down - Ferrari-to-concrete
I ain’t even home when they’re talking about me
Fuck out my ear if you talking about "free"
Nigga, free don't pay the bills
I'm ballin all-out, B
These rappers don't know me
Nah, I ain’t your homey
If your name ain't Em, Ferrari or Tony
I like my wheel chromey
My Bentley, my Rolly
My Magnum, my phonie
South Jamaica shawty
These slugs I took in the gut, yo
The work's still here, I'm just cooking it up slow
Clear my mind and whipping the truck low
You’re looking for trouble
I pop death
You’re looking to a sun dawg
If rap ain't work, I be pimpin' on some ho
Still eating lobster and shrimp in the Bungalow
I'm back like crack over the drum roll
You know - wherever I go the gun go
[Chorus: Akon]
We on the grind
All the time
Ain't 'bout to let a nigga come and snatch mine
I keep a nine
To see the shine
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper
Cause I’m a celebrity
Ghetto-celebrity
Ain't nothing changed nigga
[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
The media will test ya, popularity is pressure
Porche Panamera platinum, hammer through the metal
Wreck a booth up, I'm too tough
That inner-city grammar, step your jewels up
They bruised up, I'll sparkle for the camera
Harsh reality's what pulls them
And holding them back from opening
Verbal attack all over these niggas
Push the herd to the back
I'm the kind that they prey on
Spending half of they day on
Lay on niggas for days, the shots spray on
My sound system knock and it pound 2Pac
6 4 jumping like the ground too hot
They spot me, they chase a nigga down two blocks
Two shots in the air for niggas that ain't here
Two tone, two door, grey top, blue floor
Green guap galore, in and out of new hall
That bright light you saw was a paparazzi flash
I’m tryna snap a picture through your Maserati glass
[Chorus: Akon]
We on the grind
All the time
Ain't 'bout to let a nigga come and snatch mine
I keep a nine
To see the shine
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper
Cause I’m a celebrity
Ghetto-celebrity
Ain't nothing changed nigga
[Verse 3: Eminem]
There are enough insults in my head to fill up a swear jar
And have it overflowing
So don't get me going: don't dare start
You'll never see me again: Amelia Earhart
I'm popping a wheelie, off to a really unfair start
I'm past grinding, for me - guess I just be grounded up
Like Ground Round or a pound of chuck
Tightly-wound as fuck
'Til the Fire Marshalls come shut
Fire Marshall down and up
I suggest you better shut the fuck up
And stop fucking around and duck!
I ain't playing this time, I told you I'm out for blood
So to say I "keep it 100" would probably sound redundant
Like calling a bitch a ho or asking a gal to suck
And blow on your dick cock, is she up to screwing? Down to fuck?
It's a man's world and I'm trapped in a land of smut
With a thousand sluts strapped and muzzled
Running through a house of mutts
In other words, I'm shutting every one of you bitches' mouths up
And I'm watching my language if I tell you to kiss my fucking butt!
And ain't shit changed, my shit still don't stink, player
My farts may have gotten staler ever since
I became a trailer park celebrity
Maybe my complexion became a little paler
Poster child for white trash
I'm a Garbage Pail Kid sailor, yeah
See me I'm all up on your bitch means I'ma rape her
All I got for these hoes is dick, duct tape and a stapler
So bitch, you better look for table scraps to scrape up
I don't subscribe to the News or the Free Press
But homie, I get the paper!
Fucking stupid