Episode 3 - Grand Prix
Ah, lord, m, yo
Yeah, get it
(Twenty five years and it's still going)
Yeah
Dame Grease
I'm a smoker, weed toker
The cola in your coka
Losin' change up in your sofa
I brought change into the culture
Funny how these pigeons tryna 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
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, 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
You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racin' to the cash, that's a Grand Prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
Uh, that's a guarantee
Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
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 your mamas
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 stand and kill 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
If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid
By the time you check your pockets
I already got ya wallet
You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racin' to the cash, that's a Grand Prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
(Guarantee)
Yeah, get it
(Twenty five years and it's still going)
Yeah
Dame Grease
I'm a smoker, weed toker
The cola in your coka
Losin' change up in your sofa
I brought change into the culture
Funny how these pigeons tryna 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
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, 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
You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racin' to the cash, that's a Grand Prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
Uh, that's a guarantee
Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
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 your mamas
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 stand and kill 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
If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid
By the time you check your pockets
I already got ya wallet
You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racin' to the cash, that's a Grand Prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
(Guarantee)
Credits
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Damon J. Blackman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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