Grand Finale lyrics

[Intro: Lil Jon & Bun B]
Yeeeeah! (Yeeeeah!)
It's been a long journey getting to this motherf*ckin' point
Of this Crunk Juice sh*t (What?!)
But we done got to the last motherf*ckin' song, n*ggas (Last sh*t, n*ggas!)
And I got five of the hottest motherf*ckin' MCs in the world (Okay)
Givin' you that gangsta sh*t! (It's UGK for life)
(Free Pimp C) It's the motherf*ckin' "Grand Finale!" (Free Pimp C)

[Verse 1: Bun B]
Site
We growin' doja in the basement in that underwater garden (Okay)
With heron in the back shed, dryin' 'til it harden
Makin' hash up in the oven (Mane), with yayo on the hot plate
Drain and dry in the freezer, it's obvious we got weight
I said that hard work, that soft work, even that 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 j*rked (Fo' real)
We yayo experts, we been whippin' the yola
Since them crackas decided to take the coke out Coca-Cola (Hold up)
Hold the rollers, it's the King of the Trill, the Underground as well
You can step in the ring when you feel – n*gga, just sound the bell
Can't stand the haters in this game, but the grind, I'm lovin' (Lovin'!)
Pimpin', we past all that pushin', man, it's time for shovin' (Shovin'!)
I got the mask, I got the strap, soon as I find the gloves
Then we gon' start exposin' hoes like Farhrenheit 9/11
[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Aha! Yeah...
I'ma speak clearly, 'cause I don't think they hearin' me
A n*gga only fear is gettin' charged with Conspiracy
I can 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*ggas'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 could rock, but D-Block rock steady (D-Block!)
Feds don't need no warrants, 'cause y'all all informants
So I get higher than New York insurance
Try to keep sh*t clean like Florence
"Moved on up" on the Eastside, 'cause I never lost endurance (Nah)
And it's all real, n*ggas (Yeah)
If I ever get a license to carry – sh*t, that's a license to kill n*ggas

[Verse 3: T.I.]
I refuse to lose, I rather give these weak dudes the blues
And separate 'em from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and do's
I raise tools, make crews make decisions confused
All spectators can say is, "This lil' n*gga's a fool"
A short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewed
Here to prove you n*ggas pus*y as the Moulin Rouge
So who guardin' who?
You know who, but do you know what? Do you know where??
Goin' 'gainst 'em's too unfair
'Cause everywhere you do a show, we got kinfolk there
Now you know I ain't know more than 9 or 10 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 right and melt the grease in your hair
When I go to war, it's gon' be an indecent affair
Guarantee you nann real n*gga breathin'll care, 
That at your funeral, just your parents and the preacher was there
All on television name-droppin', reachin' for help
So I ain't gotta say a word, pimp, you beatin' yourself
You gon' get what you deserve for disrespectin' the game
Any n*gga 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*gga's a lame
You like to lie on the mic, and hide behind fame, (uh)
I was a G when I came, and that's the way I remain, n*gga (Uh... yeah...)
[Verse 4: Nas]
Who is I? The Egyptian
Walk up – f*ckers 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 sperm
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 combo 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 choose ya
Try not to lose me, I'll try not to lose ya
"Mama-say, mama-sa, ma-ma-coosa", fly to Cuba, 
To chill with some politi-kill n*ggas who ill, 'cause y'all n*ggas are losers
Don't get comfortable, n*ggas; say hello to Mr. Bad Guy, get that cash, pa
I'm the last don you'll ever know, so –
Here you go – y'all can take these thoughts
Anyway, I'm chargin' MCs a late fee cost
So when y'all done with my style, please break me off
But never make Nas mad, just in case we cross
'Cause, uhh -- 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*ck is that?) It's Ice Cube, motherf*cka!
(He's a maniac) No, I'm a fool, motherf*cka!
Old school motherf*cka, blow through a motherf*cka
What you heard about a n*gga so true, motherf*cka
See I'm ugly and pret-tay, I'm polished and grit-tay
Shoot better than that n*gga that tried to kill 50
See, n*ggas get sh*t-tay when I come to their cit-tay
When I hit the spot, that b*tch they like — she comin' wit' me
'Cause I got an ego–big as T.O. 
But I'm not an Eagle; b*tch, I roll a Regal
'Cause gangstas don't dance, we boogie
I told you motherf*ckas, Kobe didn't take that pus*y
Get money, get paid, you can beat that sh*t
Even if the D.A. is a piece'a sh*t
Colorado got bravado, but eat that sh*t
Another white b*tch lyin' on thee Black di*k
I keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'Lacs
Give n*ggas flashbacks, they sweaty as ass cracks
When I hit the tarmac, it feel like a carjack
n*ggas get out, and vanish like Star Trek
So f*ckin' incredible; I'm so f*ckin' credible
No matter what happen, I'll never turn Federal
And that's my report, comin' straight from Cali
Ice Cube is the sh*t on this motherf*ckin' "Grand Finale"