Dj Envy Grand Theft Audio Lyrics

Grand Theft Audio Lyrics

f/ Fabolous, Joe Budden, and Paul Cain







[Fabolous]



Yeah, uh huh, uh, uh



Ghetto! Oh yeah



Please believe it, believe it please



Uh, Desert Storm, okay, that's right, uh



Street Family, yeah



They call me G-H-E-T-T-O







[DJ Envy - overlapping Fabolous intro]



New Fabolous, Paul Cain, Joe Buddens



This shit's called Grand Theft Audio



C'mon maan!







[Fabolous]



The kid's usually armed



Especially since I put canary jewels in the charm and a mule on my arm
(Yeah!)



And find who you fools wanna harm



Make sure ya kids wear a vest underneath they school uniform (C'mon)



The pound slugs look like combos



A couple in the face will make celebrities look like John Doe's (Who dat?)



I'll show ya'll what the X7 look like almost (Yeah)



Private jet interiors that look like condos



Ya security look like Arnold



But he never had so many stitches in his head, they look like cornrows (Uh
ugh)



Two long Desert Eag's, four on the chest



It feel like you got no shirt in the Tuscon desert heat



Crib got large screen cinema, garage look similar



To looking in a Dupont registry



I'm assuming you cats spread rumors like that



'Cause you never seen ya moms speak wit a aluminum bat



Ghetto







[Joe Budden]



OK thugs, call the troops, tell them load they slugs (Buddens)



In the closet is the long nose and O.J. gloves



I don't care what type burner ya using



Gangsta it out, let's put the heat down, do some furniture moving



Look, tried and acquitted



Rap suckers, all ya lives I lived it, remember I'm the guy that did it



Who drives the 6's? Dogs, you can't ball out



No matter how much you customize ya Civics



Block work, glock work, give him CPR



(For what?) For trying to play his A-dat in a VCR



Keep on following Scarface, I'm plotting a car chase



Stop! It's Jumpoff wit Desperado's guitar case



I ain't gotta call on hounds (Why?)



When ya guns is like the last Lennox Lewis fight, short on rounds



I'm used to dra-ma, ride wit the tool and hammer



All you young rap dudes is bammers







[Paul Cain]



Don't let me out of my cage, the world ain't ready for Cain



The black talons and the calico confetti ya brain



I rock Lacosta, the kid wit the roaster is back



No top, sitting on 20's opposed to them black



Hang rappers from helicopters, Sosa of rap



I don't talk, I pull toasters, approach ya, and clap



I still hustle coca and crack



Just got in the game and already platinum posters and plaques



I don't write, I speak what I feel



And pop off po's dog, I don't need a reason to kill



I'm like 2 weeks from a deal, like 2 g's from a mil



Right hand, few feet from the steel



They wonder how I flow so strong



'Cause I live what I spit, my smallest hammer is a 44 long



I spit pain rap, when Cain clap, duck for cover



Hot hanger, torch ya girl, and pluck ya mother



Always ready to clash wit titans



And the princesses in my watch look like a flash of lightning



Same box I got for the gun you stash ya ice in



Make niggas sell they soul and cash they life in



Motherfucker!







[DJ Envy]



People's choice



Don't forget Desert Storm



My man Kah, Paul Cain, Fabolous, Joe Buddens



Fat shout



Varcity clothing line



My man James A.D



Desert Storm mixtape Volume 1 Blok Party



You know!