"Grindin' (Remix)" lyrics - CLIPSE

CLIPSE

"Grindin' (Remix)"

feat. Birdman, Lil Wayne, N.O.R.E. & Pharrell Williams

[Verse 1: N.O.R.E. & Pharrell]
You see I'm grimey-minded, you've been blinded
Lookin for a beat like mine, you can't find it
You hear the Clipse and N.O.R.E., gotta rewind it (beep beep!)
Nowadays you get on the run and get finded
(Grinding!) You know I got guns
Why you actin like my daughters? You know I got sons
(Grinding!) Nah, we won't speak fam
Aiming at ya collar bone, hit ya in ya cheek fam
Grinding!

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
From ghetto to ghetto to backyard to yard
I sell it whipped, un-whipped, it's soft or hard
Stand on that table, nigga, spit that Cris, nigga
Throw that chair, make 'em recognize this: raw
Playa looka here
I'm great in the kitchen like Corning cookware
Uncle Jemima, with my braids wrapped
And three-minute recipes for cookin flapjacks
Coke price through the roof, SL flew the coop
My niece askin how my rims bigger than a hula-hoop
Cuzzo, I make the block holla
Take it back to childhood how the scale teeter-totter
As I evolve, weight grew heavy
It was kinda like my buddy just fell off the see-saw
Bricks in the muffler, Mac-11 touch ya
Virgina's hustler, I'm here motherfucker

[Verse 3: Birdman]
I'm Big Tymin
In a bubble-eye Lex, so fly and (so fly! so fly!)
I cook/cut crack, that's besides me
Them big, big rims on tires and, we shinin
Me and Weezy (holla holla)
Gold rims can't see me (holla holla)
New Benz on tweezies (holla holla)
Cadillac truck beamy, fo sheezy

[Verse 4: Lil' Wayne]
From hood to hood, bitch nigga, yard to yard
Hey I'm your hero 'cause I've got that heroin and that raw
Check the rims on my car
Naw, don't check 'em though 'cause they stuffed with blow
Weezy Baby, still in the kitchen
Just put a little curve on the shit I'm pitchin
You need a hit, I'm Mark McGwire, come holla
I watch the base at home, I'm umpire

[Post-Chorus: Clipse & Pharrell]
Grindin' (whoa)
You know what I keep in a lining (whoa)
Niggas better stay in line when (whoa)
You see a nigga like me shinin' (grinding!)
Grindin' (whoa)
You know what I keep in a lining (whoa)
Niggas better stay in line when (whoa)
You see a nigga like me shinin' (grinding!)

[Verse 5: Malice]
Took 13 South, cross the Bay Bridge with it
Ring the triangle, dinner bell, come and get it!
The time in the kitchen, I dare not mention
When my cell phone echo, I swear they listening
'89 was my beginning y'all
Young snot-nosed, stashed yams in a tennis ball
Cops swore we was playing catch, no!
We was adding stretch, no choice, beg 'til you outta breath
I ducked the Feds, they seeing my weight grow
Streets love Malice for his comeback ratio
If they got popped, we made sure they made bail
'Cause if not, we be scared they gon tell
Patty cake, that's me, bake the pies
Pyrex, mixed that, scrape the sides
Grindin, Glock-9 in the lining
May God strike a nigga dead if he lying

[Hook: Pusha T & Pharrell]
What's the size of them rims on that car nigga, huh? (Grindin!)
Can they see that chain from afar nigga, huh? (Grindin!)
What'cha game be like? (Grindin!)
What'cha chain be like? (Grindin!)
So what'cha name be like? (Grindin!)
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this
What's the size of them rims on that car nigga, huh? (Grindin!)
Can they see that chain from afar nigga, huh? (Grindin!)
What'cha game be like? (Grindin!)
What'cha chain be like? (Grindin!)
So what'cha name be like? (Grindin!)
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this

Lord Willin' (2002)