Grindin'

Duration

4:03

Genres

Urban

Lyrics

See where I’m from I see a lot of anguish Pains of different races but it’s all the same language I’m a hood boy known as a product of the system See it all as a game, just the control and consoles different They want me to go to school. Get a better education Become employed by others wind up beggin for a raise and All the while I’m working and my bones start hurtin No. I can’t afford to leave. They smiling and they smerkin Pay’s not good but not too bad. I gotta leave em And the debt accumulated got you stealin every weekend All the while you working and you hurting and you bitching Can’t get another job cuz you a product of the system Fam can’t help you and streets can’t either So you try to find hope. You looking for a preacher Real recognize real. You in the streets, He in a condo Fly whip, lil jewelry hanging longer than trombone Putting the collections towards his everyday living Sittin back not working yet he splurging when he spending Only one that’s there when you get into some trouble Is the long nose pump. Yea that uno with a double So who you think when I turn gonna be the first one Sad thing I trust people less than I do a gun I tried and quite frankly I’m sick of all the trying Talking I can see the front but not the back of ya mind. So all them thoughts that’s swirling in the cut. maybe my downfall. Might be running out of luck Might try to hit me up before I finish off a sentence So my guard’s like secret service. Always at attendance I could give a f--- bout ya thoughts when you lookin at me I been judged by all but the higher power that be America only has dreams for the rich man It’s a prison for the poor so a prison for this man So what I gotta do (grind it) When I’m parting (grindin) M-I-A (grindin) Living by one motto cuz I hustle for today so I can grinding for tomorrow On the strip with the s---, moon beating me home Not dating no b----, not needing cologne Got that smell of the outside. That steam from the manholes Car exhaust, wet grass n the van smoke Long sleeves with the back pack Cargo pants with mad pockets to pack that Chillin up in yo hood. Up to no good Pump through yo hood. Put a pump to yo hood Get merked for your sales man I flip s--- like a fertilizer salesman See me, GT, All black Leather, Black seat. Black gat in the G.C.. Something in the headrest, something in the trunk. Act up and I’ll be putting someone in the trunk Eyes green. I’m only looking for the money man. The money (money) money, mad agents like a moneygram. I could give a f--- bout ya thoughts when you lookin at me I been judged by all but the higher power that be America only has dreams for the rich man It’s a prison for the poor so a prison for this man So what I gotta do (grind it) When I’m parting (grindin) M-I-A (grindin) Living by one motto cuz I hustle for today so I can grinding for tomorrow (Grindin) In the morning (grindin) in the evening (grindin) on the weekdays (gridngin) on the weekend (Grinding) every time I think of new businesses Now it’s a new addition, new money, new benefits Building it and milking it until I reach the end of it Work for something else? I can do without the visiting. (I, Me, Myself) cut my own checks (what else?) (I, Me, Myself) set my own bets (what else?) (I, Me, Myself) setting up shop So you and all others can level up stock. Oh now you mad? You wishing that you could? As hard as I worked for this, man I wish a n---- would. You wishing that you would, others whispering you should Try me? You’ll be the next n----- missing in the hood s--- outta luck like swallowing clovers better listen to that angel that’s sitting on your shoulders. I could give a f--- bout ya thoughts when you lookin at me I been judged by all but the higher power that be America only has dreams for the rich man It’s a prison for the poor so a prison for this man So what I gotta do (grind it) When I’m parting (grindin) M-I-A (grindin) Living by one motto cuz I hustle for today so I can grinding for tomorrow