Grind TIme
Vizzi
17.03.2013
48
Rap
Tekst piosenki
It's Young Vizzi in this bitch
It's S.P.'s in this bitch
[Hook: Young Stacks]
Fuck ya', stakeout, nigga it's steak house
We grind time, we know about that steak's bout'
Nigga we state facts, nigga, we laid back
We been going hard, been doing this since way back
(R-Rah - Now what we do?)
Give and give and go (Oh God)(x8)
[Shawn Prez]
Fresh Timbs, NY fitted
And them Bronx Representatives about to kill it
If you think you're doing numbers then you're fuckin' kidding
Straight crack flow, whipping in the fuckin' kitchen
YL Edition, this is the takeover
You pussy niggas sweet, just like some Grape Soda
She wants a real nigga, no not a fake Hova
She begging me to stay, call it a lay over
Grind time bitch & I'm about my paper
Fronting on my team, it's going down like elevators
Getting that green, I can see how you wanna hate us
But don't you see, jealousy is never gonna break us
That's real shit, hate a mothafucka who steals shit
Make a mothafucka wanna kill shit, ya'll ride dick, I kill clips
My flow's sick, my shit's dead, every bitch I know, a nigga gets head
Everywhere I go, a nigga gets bread
Hashtag, Young Legends Is The New Trend
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Vizzi]
The Devil want our souls, so he coming for our lives
Deep inside that coma, God once took me for that ride
My visions come in like meanings in a dictionary
Wanna read on more success than reading these obituaries
I work out to my music, symphonic body builder
My time is getting closer, musically a body killer
Live inside this careless world, full of greed & hate
Came back from the bottom, build up to be a great
Wrote down my thoughts & feelings to become a King
Why hog it all if we just want the same thing?
Yellow nigga, kicks harder than Bruce Lee
Me then compared to me now, I don't think you knew me
These niggas can't hold me back, these broads can't hold me down
Making money with the money team, shark in water, better pray you don't drown
Deuce Mob & 45 with a 45 to your dome easy
Blow the smoke, I walk away, forgive me Lord, you RIP
[Verse 3: R-Rah]
No rest, no days off
Triple shifts & on pours
No slipping here, we don't stall
Above your level & won't fall
No runways, just liftoffs
Take a few trips, put my mix on
Get the crowd right, got the loud high
We got Elus to keep the sound tight
Boom bass with a loud bite
Put the pussy on Cloud 9
Got more style to match profile
Going worldwide, that Vizzi Raw style
Caught the flake, we on miles high
Moving packs, we got pounds high
Tryna skip trial, don't be judged out
Cause we going wild, fuck em all style
In the race & I'm leading, time to click it up, it's Grind Season
You a pussy nigga, I'll leak you, my dawgs hungry, they'll eat you
What you talkin' 'bout ain't word to mouth, shoot it up, that's a word to mouth
Fuck this world, come punching out
Can't stop the grind, still cashing out
Tłumaczenie
Brak
Najnowsze teksty piosenek
Sprawdź teksty piosenek i albumy dodane w ciągu ostatnich 7 dni