Grand Hang Out - Nelly



Letra de Grand Hang Out, canción donde Nelly interpreta uno de los temas que más suenan en el albúm Sweat. Si te gusta la buena musica y te apasiona conocer letras de canciones de Nelly no te pierdas este single llamado Grand Hang Out, no querras parar de escucharlo.

Letra Grand Hang Out - Nelly

Escuchar Nelly Grand Hang Out Lyric Video.

Nelly canta la cancion Grand Hang Out dentro de su album Sweat, os dejamos con la letra de Grand Hang Out para que la podais disfrutar. En el menu teneis mas letras del album Sweat y de Nelly.

[ De: https://www.dicelacancion.com/letra/nelly/grand-hang-out ] (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. Letra Grand
Hang Out Lyrics Insertada: Anonimo

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