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    Scarface / Lyrics

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    "On My Grind" Lyrics

    Scarface feat. Z-Ro

    Album:
    Genre:Hip-Hop
    Duration:00:04:22
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    Lyrics

    [Verse 1]
    When I was in the sixth grade, these niggas was bitch made
    They was thinking science, I was thinking get paid
    I always kept a plan to get doe
    Like selling the same shit I use to steal from outta stop-n-go
    I use to run a paper route
    But that ain't pay me enough, I was still on the bus
    My momma would always tell me don't you rush to get old
    But rarely did I listen to the shit I was told
    I was a ghetto boy long before the rap group existed
    I use to take my lunch money and pitch it
    I stayed on suspension, I ain't fuckin' with school
    Truant officers be chasin' me, I'd give 'em the blues
    Hit the pipes off of Roomer just to pass the time
    Shoot the shit and walk to Shamrock, stole me a wine
    Get smashed and hit the bus stop when school let out
    Get off at tina house and bust that cot
    Walk up outta Ridgemont smelling like fish in my pocket
    Then back to the southside walking home from Watkins
    I stopped to see the homies off of Huckala street
    All you game in the front yard bumpin' this beat

    [Chorus: Z-Ro]
    Ever since I could remember I been on my grind,
    All the time
    Nothing but paper and pussy and the finer things on my mind
    I had to Shine
    By any means necessary I had to go out and get it
    And come back wit it, thug life I was wit it
    My balls and my word told a nigga that the world was mine
    That's why I stay on the grind

    [Verse 2]
    I remember when the dope game started up, serving the hypes
    I was seeing more doe than I ever seen in my life
    I was rocking up eightballs and knowing the shake
    Kept a thousand in my pocket, twenty more in the safe
    I had my grandmother guessing how I got that shit
    'Cause every other day I had to buy new kicks
    Older cats steppin' to me as if I was the man
    Getting telephone calls from my uncle's friends
    I'm sixteen years old, with game so throwed
    I was parking niggas frontin' me and fucking they hoes
    Eventually I moved out, rented a house
    I'm stretching the dope, cuttin' seventeen from an ounce
    We cop ya pots fulla spray, I'm moving big weight
    But that was back in the days, nobody thought about a dope case
    It's all mapped out, get in get out
    They giving mutha fuckas ten years for each rock
    It's fucked ain't it, but I'm lookin' at the picture they done painted
    They hanging all these niggas who's careers was dope gamin'
    The crack epidemic had you locked if you was in it
    And even if you stepped out with bread you couldn't spend it
    In the beginning niggas had they whole hoods flooded
    Wit that Antonio Montana disease like "fuck it"
    And drug wars just another day in the life
    You fucked over me, I fucked you, done gave me the right

    [Chorus]

    [Verse 3]
    I'm up and down I-10, with a car full of hens
    Finta check my ends, finta get this Benz
    Stopped short of my drop spot by red lights flashing
    I'm dirty, and if he wants to search I'ma blast him
    I roll the windows down so I can show him my hands
    Wouldn't you know, the cop done pulled me over my man
    I got a brand new plan take this shit to the line
    Stop an Sony's and give it back I'll give you a dime
    With ten thousand you can go to work for a week
    Take some time off to think, I'll even throw in a key
    He stopped at the mo', I gave him the doe
    Checked in my room then whooped out the scale and the blow
    There's a knock at the door, I grabbed the four-four
    It was the homeboy who set me up down on the floor

    [Chorus]
    This song was submitted on July 27th, 2009 and last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc..
    Written by Joseph Wayne Mcvey, Leroy Andre Williams.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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