Nelly

Grand Hang Out
(feat. Fat Joe, Remy Martin & Young Tru) [Chorus: Nelly] I see you niggaz ain't rentin and leasin these cars Frontin like you buy and buy and buy and buy 'em Claimin that you makin so much paper but I know That I know that you a liar liar liar liar Let a grand hang out, let a grand hang out Dip deep into your pockets, let a grand hang out Let a grand hang out, let a grand hang out If you ballin then quit the stallin, let a grand hang out [Nelly] Uhh, uhh, uhh, c'mon! Hey yo, I pull up so aggressive nigga, hoppin out the thang Ice drippin wet like I just hopped up out the rain My picture perfect pose like I hopped up out a frame Ain't a coach on the planet that can take me out the game My heart beats forever like my name was Eddie King A Midwest rider like my derrty Jesse James The CEO of Derrty and he go by Cornell Haynes Mean-muggin all you niggaz like I hopped up out your dame I'm like uh-oh, there he go-oh A hundred and twenty up Natural Bridge in that Mo-Mo Slippin and slidin, look how he ridin pass the po-po He blazin that fire behind the {?} they don't know-oh SongtexteWhoo! I'm really thinkin of changin my name to Krispy Kreme I'm do-nuts nigga, let me tell you what I mean I'm paper chasin, chasin the paper, you chasin dreams My money gettin stronger like it's takin Creatine [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh, uhh, uhh [Young Tru] My pockets like Wyclef Jean, the +Fu-gees+ We them locksmith boys, we keep a few ki's Caterpillar pimp, that butterfly whores Lamborghini spreewells, butterfly doors Some'n like McDonald's when I move in packs Quarter-Pound Supersized bullets and Big Mac's House longer than I-70, arise ten stories And I still +Rob+ niggaz just like Horry Everybody hate on Young Tru boy Cause they know that the nigga on fire fire fire fire Rap phenomenon - soon as the album drop artists don't eat like the month of Ramadan Derrty this, Derrty that, guess I'm a Derrty cat Sellin niggaz some chickens, rob 'em get the birdies back Plumber of the game, that flood the state In a stretch Phantom, with more Windows than Bill Gates {*echoes*} [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh, uhh, Joey Crack! [Fat Joe] Yeah.. they lease and we buy 'em, we peace and they crime They dyin cause we street, keep heat, and keep firin Y'all know, top of the world's my motto (uhh) Anna Kournikovia, baby girl's my model (uhh) All I wanted in life is to be a soldier Now you can find me with chicks just doin yoga Meditation that Marley, the hydraulicals You heard Big, go check the Brown, they might hire you High definition to any form of telecast Me and young derrty got plenty hoes and hella cash All I need is a minute to "Shatter Your Dreams" And we about to sell more than Avril Lavigne (biatch!) And all I do is rep the hood where the jugs be Can't help it if the folks at MTV love me Y'all see the T.S. we shinin, come to the B-X we grindin Y'all wanna be us keep tryin, we buyin, he's lyin [Chorus] [Nelly] Uhh.. uhh, ladies! [Remy Martin] We like, fuck, that; I need a stack And like, forty-nine to go with that I'm quick to, tell a hoe her flow is wack The type to, cop the jersey, throw it back See I can stunt and tell a chick "Yo let your man hang out" Since he frontin like it's nothin, let a grand hang out Fuck a handout, I been gettin {?} since way back Can't wait to see they faces when I drop the Maybach You lyin, you claim you buyin but you rentin and leasin If you pimpin and niggaz spendin, where's the paper you seein? Stop stallin, I'm ballin, call me Sheryl Swoops Can't stand the backseat driver, that's why I cop the Coupe Yeah, I been testin law with the darkest tints So explicit valet had to tip to park the shit (errt!) I'm like a - block away and the whip be startin (uhh) Oh God, it's Remy Martin! [Chorus] - repeat to fade Aus Songtexte Mania