Get Your Grind On lyrics

But I would've loved to hear
A Big Pun and B.I.G. collabo
That sh*t would've been incredible

[Big Pun talking]
Aye you know what I'm sayin', it was destined to happen
We have our day, you know?
I see him, I see him, I see him at the pearly gates, yaknahmean?
We keep it, keep it, keep it goin' from there

[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, I drink 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', "bast*rd!"
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 sh*t but it's pleasant
Kinda quiet, watch my n*ggas 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
sh*t, I need the company (uh-huh)
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
Silencers so you can't hear it
Competition still fear it, sh*t don't ask me
I went from ashy to nasty to classy, and still
[Chorus: Freeway]
n*gga 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 n*gga grew up in the projects, end up gettin' mo' stressed
Mo' money, mo' drama you know a n*gga keep his armor
'Cause the streets are killin'
Now get your grind on
Come get introduced to my home

[Verse 2: Big Pun]
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
n*ggas 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 organisation 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 vegatables
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: Freeway]
n*gga 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 n*gga grew up in the pro-jects, end up gettin' mo' stressed
Mo' money, mo' drama you know a n*gga keep his armor
'Cause the streets are killin'
Now get your grind on

[Verse 3: Fat Joe]
I got that new F-N, call it that faggot n*gga gun
Couple of hollow tips make you faggot n*ggas run
Crack pull up, everybody clear out
Anybody pumpin' that rock is gettin' aired out
I'm in that caddy with my b*tch 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 swervin' to a town near you
My n*ggas watch out for that 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 to ten Benzes, a couple of drops
Couple of rubber bands from the corrupt cops
Just to see my n*ggas eat and sh*t and huggin' the blocks
Crack a chastise '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 n*ggas get shot in broad day 'cause we don't give a...
f*ck, little n*ggas on bike and just shoot you
All for a pair of some Nikes, the sh*t's brutal
I done seen fiends O.D., shot the wrong pack
Then they call the sh*t the bomb smack
Word to Crack, the God body, the hard body, the realest ever
The John Gotti, this rap sh*t, will it kill me? Never
[Verse 4: The Notorious B.I.G.]
This goes out to cats (stupid), fingers in they ass again
Fifty dollar half-a-men, daydreamin'
f*ck 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
f*ck the screwfaces, 'cause when I flip
I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas
n*ggas can't bang with us, try to do me
My crew be unruly (what)
Some old school cats that call gats toolies
Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies
And f*ck without rubbers (what), specialize
In killin' wives and grandmothers, who ya trustin', sh*t
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 sh*t

[Instrumental Outro]