Get Your Grind On

The Notorious B.I.G.

Composición de: Carlos 6 July Broady/Christopher Wallace/Darryl D.M.C. McDaniels/Joe Cartagena/Nasheim Myrick/PR Breakz/Sean Puffy Combs
(feat. Big Punisher, Fat Joe & Freeway) 

But I would've loved to hear 
A Big Pun and B.I.G. collabo 
That shit would've been incredible 

[Big Pun talking] 
Aye yaknahmsayin, it was just happen 
We have our day, you know? 
I seen him, I seen him, I seen him at the pearly gates, yaknahmean? 
We keep it, keep it, keep it going from there 

[Notorious B.I.G.] 
Uhh, I dream filthy 
My moms and pops mixed me with Jamaican Rum and Whiskey 
Huh, what a set up 
Shoulda pushed 'em dead off, wipe the sweat off 
Uhh, cause in this world I'm dead off, squeeze lead off 
Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brook-land 
Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies 
Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up 
Moms crotched up over the casket, screamin BASTARD 
Cryin, know my friends is lyin 
Y'all know who killed 'em filled 'em with the lugars from they Rugers 
or they Desert, dyin ain't the shit but it's pleasant 
Kinda quiet, watch my niggaz bring the riot 
Giving 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 (uh-huh) 
Apoligies 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 
Silencers 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 

[Chorus: Freeway] 
Nigga still gotta get his grind on 
Come get introduced to my home 
I grew up in the 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 nigga grew up in the pro-jects, end up gettin mo' stressed 
Mo' money, mo' drama you know a nigga keep his armor 
Cause the streets are killin 
Now get your grind on 
Come get introduced to my home 

[Big Punisher] 
Yo, yo 
The penalty is death, especially when I'm mentally stressed 
My enemies hang with me 'til I eventually flip 
I never reject an offer to battle 
Slap a coffin on the saddle 
and rattle like a wooden horse to el barrio 
Niggaz talk but they babble cause they ain't sayin nuttin 
If 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 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 tech and my steel turn your whole crew into vega-ta-bills 
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 

[Chorus] 

[Fat Joe] 
I got that new F-N, call it that faggot nigga gun 
Couple of hollow tips make you faggot niggaz 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 
Your mommy got a body but she itchin to clap 
And I know you pitchin purple but we switchin the packs 
Listen, don't make me hurt you I'm just givin the facts 
On that I 9-5 swirvin to a town near you 
My niggaz watch out for that Black Surburbans 
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 to ten Benzes, a couple of drops 
Couple of rubber bands from the corrupt cops 
Just to see my niggaz eat and shit and huggin the blocks 
Crack a chestize 'em, right besides 'em 
In front of a hundred million viewers, shouldn't surprise 'em 
We from the Bronx where the may-ors lift up 
And niggaz get shot in broad day cause we don't give a... 
Fuck little niggaz on bike and just shoot you 
All for a pair of some Nikes, the shits brutal 
I done seen fiends O.D., shot the wrong pack 
Then they call the shit the bomb smack 
Word to Crack, the god body, the hard body, the realest ever 
The John Gotti, this rap shit, will it kill me? Never 

[Notorious B.I.G.] 
This goes out to cats, fingers in they ass again 
Fifty dollar half-a-men, daydreamin 
Fuck around get wet like semen, your whole team-and 
be Mor-gan 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 
Niggaz can't bang with us, try to do me 
My crew be unruly (what) 
To 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 ya 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
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