Grand Finale

[Intro: Lil Jon & Bun B]

Yeeeeah (Yeeeeah)

It's been a long journey getting to this motherfuckin' point

Of this Crunk Juice shit (What?)

But we done got to the last motherfuckin' song, niggas (Last shit, niggas)

And I got five of the hottest motherfuckin' MCs in the world (Okay)

Givin' you that gangsta shit (It's UGK for life)

(Free Pimp C) It's the motherfuckin' "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 jerked (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 – nigga, 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 nigga 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 niggas'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 shit clean like Florence

"Moved on up" on the Eastside, 'cause I never lost endurance (Nah)

And it's all real, niggas (Yeah)

If I ever get a license to carry – shit, that's a license to kill niggas

[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' nigga's a fool"

A short fuse with some loose screws, some unscrewed

Here to prove you niggas pussy 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 nigga 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 nigga 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 nigga'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, nigga (Uh... yeah...)

[Verse 4: Nas]

Who is I? The Egyptian

Walk up – fuckers 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 niggas who ill, 'cause y'all niggas are losers

Don't get comfortable, niggas; 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 fuck is that?) It's Ice Cube, motherfucka

(He's a maniac) No, I'm a fool, motherfucka

Old school motherfucka, blow through a motherfucka

What you heard about a nigga so true, motherfucka

See I'm ugly and pret-tay, I'm polished and grit-tay

Shoot better than that nigga that tried to kill 50

See, niggas get shit-tay when I come to their cit-tay

When I hit the spot, that bitch they like — she comin' wit' me

'Cause I got an ego–big as T.O. 

But I'm not an Eagle; bitch, I roll a Regal

'Cause gangstas don't dance, we boogie

I told you motherfuckas, Kobe didn't take that pussy

Get money, get paid, you can beat that shit

Even if the D.A. is a piece'a shit

Colorado got bravado, but eat that shit

Another white bitch lyin' on thee Black dick

I keep it flippin' like flapjacks, pimpin' like black 'Lacs

Give niggas flashbacks, they sweaty as ass cracks

When I hit the tarmac, it feel like a carjack

Niggas get out, and vanish like Star Trek

So fuckin' incredible; I'm so fuckin' credible

No matter what happen, I'll never turn Federal

And that's my report, comin' straight from Cali

Ice Cube is the shit on this motherfuckin' "Grand Finale"

[Voicemail Outro: Chyna Whyte]

[?] this call is from Chyna

[Send that?] to decline the call. [?] to accept the call, dial 5 now

To block future pre-paid calls from this person, dial 7-7

What up, nigga? You know I be tryna to call you from here, I ain't got that many minutes, you don't be answering the phone. You know when it say, "Unknown Name" mane, answer the phone, it's Chyna. Mane y'all doing y'all thang, you heard me? Let me tell you something. When this Crunk Juice drop, let these niggas know, dawg, I'm coming back, ya heard me? It's my last [rip?] in this bitch. I ain't coming back cause I'm sick of eating mackerel and noodles and wearing these khakis a day. Let these niggas know I'm 'bout to shut it down 2005, ya heard me? The Whyte about to hit the block and lace they veins with that raw dope, ya heard me? Y'all did it big in 2004, y'all gonna do it even bigger in 2005 with the Whyte back on the scene. J-Jon look, look the phone 'bout to hang up. I'ma holla at you later, alright?