[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
I just touched down - Ferrari-to-concrete
I ain’t even home when they’re talking about me
Fuck out my ear if you talking about "free"
N***a, free don't pay the bills
I'm ballin all-out, B
These rappers don't know me
Nah, I ain’t your homey
If your name ain't Em, Ferrari or Tony
I like my wheel chromey
My Bentley, my Rolly
My Magnum, my phonie
South Jamaica shawty
These slugs I took in the gut, yo
The work's still here, I'm just cooking it up slow
Clear my mind and whipping the truck low
You’re looking for trouble
I pop death
You’re looking to a sun dawg
If rap ain't work, I be pimpin' on some ho
Still eating lobster and shrimp in the Bungalow
I'm back like crack over the drum roll
You know - wherever I go the gun go

[Chorus: Akon]
We on the grind
All the time
Ain't 'bout to let a n***a come and snatch mine
I keep a nine
To see the shine
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper
Cause I’m a celebrity
Ghetto-celebrity
Ain't nothing changed n***a
[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
The media will test ya, popularity is pressure
Porche Panamera platinum, hammer through the metal
Wreck a booth up, I'm too tough
That inner-city grammar, step your jewels up
They bruised up, I'll sparkle for the camera
Harsh reality's what pulls them
And holding them back from opening
Verbal attack all over these n***as
Push the herd to the back
I'm the kind that they prey on
Spending half of they day on
Lay on n***as for days, the shots spray on
My sound system knock and it pound 2Pac
6 4 jumping like the ground too hot
They spot me, they chase a n***a down two blocks
Two shots in the air for n***as that ain't here
Two tone, two door, grey top, blue floor
Green guap galore, in and out of new hall
That bright light you saw was a paparazzi flash
I’m tryna snap a picture through your Maserati glass

[Chorus: Akon]
We on the grind
All the time
Ain't 'bout to let a n***a come and snatch mine
I keep a nine
To see the shine
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper
Cause I’m a celebrity
Ghetto-celebrity
Ain't nothing changed n***a
[Verse 3: Eminem]
There are enough insults in my head to fill up a swear jar
And have it overflowing
So don't get me going: don't dare start
You'll never see me again: Amelia Earhart
I'm popping a wheelie, off to a really unfair start
I'm past grinding, for me - guess I just be grounded up
Like Ground Round or a pound of chuck
Tightly-wound as fuck
'Til the Fire Marshalls come shut
Fire Marshall down and up
I suggest you better shut the fuck up
And stop fucking around and duck!
I ain't playing this time, I told you I'm out for blood
So to say I "keep it 100" would probably sound redundant
Like calling a bitch a ho or asking a gal to suck
And blow on your dick cock, is she up to screwing? Down to fuck?
It's a man's world and I'm trapped in a land of smut
With a thousand sluts strapped and muzzled
Running through a house of mutts
In other words, I'm shutting every one of you bitches' mouths up
And I'm watching my language if I tell you to kiss my fucking butt!
And ain't shit changed, my shit still don't stink, player
My farts may have gotten staler ever since
I became a trailer park celebrity
Maybe my complexion became a little paler
Poster child for white trash
I'm a Garbage Pail Kid sailor, yeah
See me I'm all up on your bitch means I'ma rape her
All I got for these hoes is dick, duct tape and a stapler
So bitch, you better look for table scraps to scrape up
I don't subscribe to the News or the Free Press
But homie, I get the paper!
Fucking stupid