Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Grand Royal, artist - Capone-N-Noreaga. Album song Channel 10, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.03.2009
Record label: SMC
Song language: English
Grand Royal |
You thought we wasn’t gonna do it again nigga? |
(We gotta do it again, y’heard?) |
It’s history in the making baby |
(Once again, historia) |
Back to the motherfucking game! |
Aiyyo it started from «The War Report», talked about the war we fought |
Slime got locked and came home to «The Reunion» |
Eight years later, new religion of communion |
Channel 10, and once again keep your TVs on |
YouTube distributed, iPhone equipped with it |
MySpace can get with it, beef gone, did your bid |
I mean digital, lifetime criminal |
I feel invincible, I feel invisible |
Cause you niggas can’t see where I come from |
The diddy-dum, the gun where you run from |
N.O.R. |
basically with 'Pone make greatfully |
Music, I think you dudes should be thanking me |
The hole in the gap man, we done filled |
And it’s only been a drought cause Primo chilled |
But stick up kids still out to tax |
And them damn gas prices need to fucking relax |
«CNN», «CNN» |
«CNN, we’re like the Grand Royal» |
«CNN», «CNN» |
«The Reunion, a brand new cut» |
«CNN», «CNN» |
«We're like the Grand Royal» |
«On the microphone, word up» |
Yeah, yo, see money is power, power put the fear in a nigga heart |
A high school dropout but I’m mainly trigger smart |
Einstein of the corner, I learned to cold trade |
Low fade, half-moon park to get mo' paid |
Take a walk with me, all white Air One Nikes on |
Through the land of gun slingers and pipe dons |
I’m parallel to hell with ice on, stones is canary |
A thousand pennyweights of the Virgin Mary |
I draw that big burner, might cause a solar eclipse |
A true thug’s prophecy, money over a bitch |
Get consignment on a ki', that’s hitting that hood lotto |
Do right by your niggas, bet nothing but good follow |
Tip your glass up, salute and have a toast to your enemies |
Every nigga locked in the pen is a kin to me |
Crowding at 9−5, I don’t need no problem with troopers |
Cause they even do you dirty with money like Frank Lucas |
The recession got niggas wilding out on the max |
And the mediums in regular jails is cold facts |
And niggas back home ain’t doing good either |
They foreclosed on homes, no home grown neither |
Now everybody hurting, walk around with the zombie face |
Hit the marines or hit the army place |
Aiyyo I bang Rugers, used to have a fetish for revolvers |
Till I squeezed off the MAC-10, it made me heartless |
Gang bangers love me, throw it up like they nauseous |
Bitches say I’m gorgeous, now they say I’m lawless |
I’m a true heat holder, gun toter, keep coca |
And turn them feet skinny like Al Roker, yeah |