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Grand Prix Video (MV)




Performed By: Method Man
Length: 2:22
Written by: Clifford Smith




Method Man - Grand Prix Lyrics
Official




Get it
Twenty Five years & it's still going
Yeah

I'm a smoker, weed toker
The cola in your coka
Loosing change up in your sofa
I brought change into the culture
Funny how these pigeons tryna change into a vulture
You a poser, wit pork all on your fork and that ain't kosher
No sir, I never put a penny in a loafer
For good times up in the ghetto, we had penny and Wilona
You know I stretch a quarter, got a rock cuz I'm a roller
And I'm bolder than a hard rock is
'Cause I'm a stoner
I need closure
And you rappers need to wake up and smell the begonias
You about to be gones
Big shot caller, I'm here to pop them corns
Little league ballers could get popped I warned ya
Who put the person in persona, putting hands up on a person
Close the curtain on the Rama
Pack a lama, catch me lurking I'm your karma
Sleeping on me even worse'll get you murked in your pajamas

You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a grand prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
That's a guarantee
Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee

I'm still working on them commas
While the system tryna curve me
Ain't no mercy from your honor
That's the problem, when you coming from the bottom
Couldn't even get Bin Laden 'til we voted for Obama
I ain't a minor, teen spirit ain't nirvana
Call me pro meth, it's clear this kinda syrup ain't Jemima's
Baby mama drama, tryna act like she Madonna
Like a virgin, but I'm certain that this person a piranha
Man eater, Jeffrey Dahma
If a stray hit a stand and kill a fan that's Kitana
A rapper getting roasted in a room, that's a sauna
Straps in the room, it's shaolin vs the lama
Why should I threat when I can promise
With that money saved for college
You can go and pay me homage
If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid
By the time you check your pockets
I already got ya wallet

You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a grand prix
I go Ricky bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Get it
Twenty Five years & it's still going
Yeah

I'm a smoker, weed toker
The cola in your coka
Loosing change up in your sofa
I brought change into the culture
Funny how these pigeons tryna change into a vulture
You a poser, wit pork all on your fork and that ain't kosher
No sir, I never put a penny in a loafer
For good times up in the ghetto, we had penny and Wilona
You know I stretch a quarter, got a rock cuz I'm a roller
And I'm bolder than a hard rock is
'Cause I'm a stoner
I need closure
And you rappers need to wake up and smell the begonias
You about to be gones
Big shot caller, I'm here to pop them corns
Little league ballers could get popped I warned ya
Who put the person in persona, putting hands up on a person
Close the curtain on the Rama
Pack a lama, catch me lurking I'm your karma
Sleeping on me even worse'll get you murked in your pajamas

You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a grand prix
I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
That's a guarantee
Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee

I'm still working on them commas
While the system tryna curve me
Ain't no mercy from your honor
That's the problem, when you coming from the bottom
Couldn't even get Bin Laden 'til we voted for Obama
I ain't a minor, teen spirit ain't nirvana
Call me pro meth, it's clear this kinda syrup ain't Jemima's
Baby mama drama, tryna act like she Madonna
Like a virgin, but I'm certain that this person a piranha
Man eater, Jeffrey Dahma
If a stray hit a stand and kill a fan that's Kitana
A rapper getting roasted in a room, that's a sauna
Straps in the room, it's shaolin vs the lama
Why should I threat when I can promise
With that money saved for college
You can go and pay me homage
If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid
By the time you check your pockets
I already got ya wallet

You can try but you'll never understand me
I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B
Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a grand prix
I go Ricky bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Clifford Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Exploration Group LLC

Back to: Method Man

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