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