Chef Dreds


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Griselda is a feminine given name from Germanic sources that is now used in English, Italian, and Spanish as well. According to the 1990 United States Census, the name was 1066th in popularity among females in the United States. It has been suggested that the name originated from Old English "gris hild", meaning "dark battle". The name likely specifically stems from the Proto-Germanic language elements *grīsaz, meaning both "grey" and "fearsome, terrible", and *haliþaz, meaning "warrior, hero", or alternately *hildiz, meaning "battle" (compare modern German grau and Held).The name can also be spelled "Griselde", "Grisselda", "Grieselda", "Grizelda", "Gricelda", and "Criselda". Common nicknames include, "Zelda", "Selda", "Grissy", "Gris", "Grisel", or "Grizel… more »


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(Flygod) ayo

Hangin' out the Royce with the Russian
Everybody duckin'
Only five niggas got hit, f*ck it (ah)
Halos over Palm Angels
Watch for Lucifer (ah)
I had the beam on the Draco, lunchin' 

Dumpin', I threw the barrel at your pumpkin (brrt)
Puffin' gelati, chillin', givin' game to my youngin'
I told him that this shit don't come, that you gotta want it
And have that money back on time to me if I front it, ah (let's go)
I pull that gun up, you slippin', you better run it
Shells, those feel like oatmeal, they sit in your stomach (ah)
I came home and let back niggas biddin' them numbers (free my niggas)
I'm thinkin' 'bout which block that I'm killin' this summer

Ayo, Dior rockin', three fifty-seven to your throat popper 
He had to lay low, the streets watchin'
Two different color duct tapes, I bet the shit got cut
My shit swimmin', made two to five now we winnin'
Catch me on the yard, creased up, waves spinnin'

C.o. Knockin' at my cell, price on the linen
Look, you know the wheels got the big Bs (uh huh)
The wrist freeze, diamonds dancin' like Chris Breeze (hahaha)
Thirty-five hundred my sneakers, you can't get these
After I nut
I made the bitch leave (get out, bitch)
You know my wrist mean (wrist mean)
I double up if the brick clean (let's go)
But now I get that for a sixteen
Ah, and I spend it like this dope from lotto
Sig throwin' hollows, the bullets big as a Corona bottle (brrt)
It cost twenty bands for a convo
My niggas all capos
Last time I cooked up, I wore a poncho (ah)
Pullin' up on your broad, pronto (what's poppin'?)
I fucked her once
She hit me the next day but the call blocked, though

Ayo, all my jewels on
I'm in the two seater with the roof gone (skrrt)
Bushmaster with the Raf straps, knock your shoes off
Air hole TEC blew off, no screw off
Headshot up close, his Just Don blew off 

I pull the coupe off with two bitches in my new loft (vroom)
Diamond tennis chains, VVSs, and a new cross
Bring your biggest gun, nigga, we can have a shoot-off (huh?)
Only hit three niggas, but, shit, I knocked two off (brr)
We the upper echelon of the hard rappers 
The most sought-after, bar after bar after bar after
Bar, we raw like soft outta traffic
Nigga got out of pocket and my dawg clapped him (ah, boom, boom, boom)

We the hardest 'til I'm laid in a coffin (ah)
I never trade on the squadron (nope)
Came with a forklift, ah, we made niggas bosses
Doin' it from the stage to the faucet
They know we the hardest
I hit valet and they parked it, uh (uh huh)
They want the wave like a dolphin
What gangster is you talkin'? 
We don't play, we on offense
Stick you and throw your chains in the garbage
They know we the hardest (let's go)
Use your brain before they torch it
Lock and load, and aim for the target
My niggas the hardest (let's go)

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Written by: Desmond Price, Alvin Lamar Worthy, Jeremie Pennick

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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