Get Your Grind On (feat. Big Pun, Fat Joe and Freeway)

I drink filthy, my moms and pops mixed me with Jamaican rum and whiskey

Huh, what a set-off, should've pushed 'em dead off, wipe the sweat off

'Cause in this world I'm dead off, squeeze lead off, Benz sped off

Ain't no shook hands in Brooklyn

Army fatigue, break for tea, the enemies

Look, man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up

Mom's crotched up over the casket screamin', "Bastard"

Cryin', know my friends is lyin', I know who killed 'em

Filled them with them lugars from Rugers or they Deserts, dyin' ain't shit but it's pleasant

Kinda quiet, watch my **** bring the riot

Givin' cats the opposite of diets

You gain' thirty pounds when you die, no lie, lazy eye

I was high when they hit me, took a few cats with me

Shit, I need the company, apologies in order to T'yanna, my daughter

If it was up to me, you would be with me, sorta like Daddy Dearest

My vision be the clearest, silencer so you can't hear it

Competition still fear it, shit don't ask me, I went from ashy to nasty to classy and still

**** still gotta get his grind on

Come get introduced to my home

I grew up in a crime zone

Soon as you grown you on your own

You keep your strap, you keep your chrome

'Cause the streets is chilly, now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

A **** grew up in the projects, end up gettin' more stressed

More money, more drama, you know a **** keep his Llama

'Cause the streets are killin', now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

The penalty is death, especially when I'm mentally stressed

My enemies hang with me till I eventually flip

I never reject an offer to battle, slap a coffin in the saddle

And ride it like a wooden horse to the barrio

**** talk but they babble 'cause they ain't sayin' nothin'

If I ain't blazin' somethin' with the MAC, I'm in the shack bakin' muffins

Fake the funk and get your rump roast, one dose of the toast'll

One dose of the toast'll make you jump if you come close

Pun spoke, ain't no more debatin'

My squad been waitin' for the perfect time to give you what you all been waitin'

An orgi-nation of veterans, built with genuine skills to pay the heat, gas and the rest of the bills

Invest in the real, don't get left in the hills

My TEC and my steel turn your whole crew into vegetables

We blessed with the will to never surrender 'cause my every agenda's in and out

Unseen like I entered the ninja (It's my world)

**** still gotta get his grind on

Come get introduced to my home

I grew up in a crime zone

Soon as you grown you on your own

You keep your strap, you keep your chrome

'Cause the streets is chilly, now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home

A **** grew up in the projects, end up gettin' more stressed

More money, more drama, you know a **** keep his Llama

'Cause the streets are killin', now get your grind on

I got that new F-N, call it that faggot **** gun

Couple of hollow tips make you faggot **** run

Crack pull up, everybody clear out

Anybody pumpin' that rock is gettin' aired out

I'm in that Caddy with my bitch in the pack

Yeah, mami got a body but she itchin' to clap

And I know you pitchin' purple but we switchin' the packs

Listen, man, don't make me hurt you, I'm just givin' the facts

On that I-95 swervin' to a town near you

My **** watch out for them black Suburbans

And, no, it's not the feds, man, Papi's home

And Papi got it good, he could put you on, listen

I done made abandoned blocks look hot

Nine or ten Benzes, a couple of drops

Couple of rubber bands for the corrupt cops

Just to see my **** eat and shit and huggin' the blocks

Crack'll chastise 'em right beside 'em

In front of a hunnid million views shouldn't surprise 'em

We from the Bronx where them ARs lift up

And **** get shot in broad day 'cause we don't give a fuck

Lil' **** on bikes'll just shoot you, all for a pair of some Nikes, this shit's brutal

I done seen fiends O.D., shot the wrong pack

Then they call this shit "The bomb smack," word to Crack

The God body, the hardbody, the realest ever

The John Gotti, this rap shit, will it kill me? Never

This goes out to cats (Stupid), fingers in they ass again

Fifty-dollar half of men, daydreamin', fuck around, get wet like semen

Your whole team and be more gone than Freeman

I took the cream and moved to new places, new faces, fuck the screwfaces

'Cause when I flip I make the papers, dangerous

We Goodfellas, **** can't bang with us

Try to do me, my crew be unruly

Some old school cats that call gats toolies, call blacks moolies

Think it's cool to smoke woolies and fuck without rubbers (What?)

Specialize in killin' wives and grandmothers, who you trustin'? Shit

When Frank start bustin', Frank start somethin'

Killin' ya gently, God meant me to push a Bentley

Me and Sean Combs takin' broads home

On the phone with the chip with these Cristal chicks

'Bout to make our own porno flicks, my life's the shit