![Écouter Grindin' (feat. N.O.R.E., Birdman & Lil Wayne) [Remix - Main] par Clipse](https://is1-ssl.mzstatic.com/image/thumb/Music124/v4/f4/2b/b6/f42bb6df-b902-5a4d-37cc-dd6fd3cb4dfd/mzi.taqbwohf.jpg/1275x1275bb-60.webp "Écouter Grindin' (feat. N.O.R.E., Birdman & Lil Wayne) [Remix - Main] par Clipse")
Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
N.O.R.E.
Chant
Birdman
Chant
Lil Wayne
Chant
Pharrell Williams
Chant
Chad Hugo
Programmation
No Malice
Chant
Pusha T
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Terrence Thornton
Paroles/Composition
Gene Thornton
Paroles/Composition
Pharrell Williams
Paroles/Composition
Chad Hugo
Paroles/Composition
Bryan Christopher Williams
Paroles/Composition
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Paroles/Composition
Brian Williams
Paroles/Composition
Victor Santiago Jr.
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
The Neptunes
Production
Phil Tan
Ingénierie de mixage
Andrew "Drew" Coleman
Ingénierie
Paroles
[Chorus]
Backyard to yard (Yeah)
What's the size of them rims on that car, ****, huh? (Grindin')
Can they see that chain from afar, ****, huh? (Grindin')
What ya game be like? (Grindin')
What ya chains be like? (Grindin')
So what ya name be like? (Grindin')
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this
[Verse 1]
You see I'm grimy-minded, you've been blinded
Lookin' for a beat like mine, you can't find it (You can't find it)
You hear the Clipse and N.O.R.E., gotta rewind it
Nowadays you get on the run and get finded
Grinding
You know I got guns
Why you actin' like my daughters and you know I got sons?
Grinding
Nah, we won't speak, fam
Aiming at ya collarbone, hit you in ya cheek, fam
Grinding
[Verse 2]
From ghetto to ghetto to backyard to yard
I sell it whipped or un-whipped, it's soft or hard
Stand on that table, ****, spit that Cris, ****
Throw that chair, make 'em recognize this raw
Playa, look-a 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, blew the coupe
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 evolved, weight grew heavy
It was kinda like my buddy just fell off the see-saw
Bricks in the muffler, MAC-11 touch ya
Virginia's hustler, I'm here, motherfucker
[Chorus]
What's the size of them rims on that car, ****, huh? (Grindin')
Can they see that chain from afar, ****, huh? (Grindin')
What ya game be like? (Grindin')
What ya chains be like? (Grindin')
So what ya name be like? (Grindin')
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this
[Verse 3]
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 (Brr)
[Verse 4]
From hood to hood, bitch ****, yard to yard
Aye, I'm your hero 'cause I've got that heroin and that raw
Check the rims on my car
Nah, 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 like Mark McGwire, come holla
I'll watch the base at home, I'm umpire, holla
[Bridge]
Grindin'
You know what I keep in the lining
**** better stay in line when
You see a **** like me shinin'
Grinding
Grindin'
You know what I keep in the lining
**** better stay in line when
You see a **** like me shinin'
Grinding
[Verse 5]
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 listenin'
'89 was my beginning, y'all
Young snot-nose, stashed yams in a tennis ball
Cops swore we was playin' catch
No, we was adding stretch, no shorts, beg till you outta breath
I ducked the feds, they seein' my weight grow
Streets love Malice for his comeback ratio
If they got popped, we made sure they made bail
'Cause if not, we'd be scared they gon' tell
Patty cake, that's me, bake the pies
Pyrex, mix that, scrape the sides
Grindin', Glock-9 in the lining
May God strike a **** dead if he lying
[Chorus]
What's the size of them rims on that car, ****, huh? (Grindin')
Can they see that chain from afar, ****, huh? (Grindin')
What ya game be like? (Grindin')
What ya chains be like? (Grindin')
So what ya name be like? (Grindin')
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this
[Chorus]
What's the size of them rims on that car, ****, huh? (Grindin')
Can they see that chain from afar, ****, huh? (Grindin')
What ya game be like? (Grindin')
What ya chains be like? (Grindin')
So what ya name be like? (Grindin')
Ma, it don't get more ghetto than this
Written by: Bryan Christopher Williams, Chad Hugo, Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr., Gene Thornton, Pharrell Williams, Terrence Thornton, Victor Santiago
