Nelly

Nelly - Grand Hang Out lyrics

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(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

Whoo! 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]
Get this song at:
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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