D.J. Buck - Grind TIme lyrics

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D.J. Buck - Grind TIme lyrics

It's Young Vizzi in this b**h It's S.P.'s in this b**h [Hook: Young Stacks] f** ya', stakeout, n***a it's steak house We grind time, we know about that steak's bout' n***a we state facts, n***a, 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 k** it If you think you're doing numbers then you're f**in' kidding Straight crack flow, whipping in the f**in' kitchen YL Edition, this is the takeover You p**y n***as sweet, just like some Grape Soda She wants a real n***a, no not a fake Hova She begging me to stay, call it a lay over Grind time b**h & 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 sh**, hate a mothaf**a who steals sh** Make a mothaf**a wanna k** sh**, ya'll ride dick, I k** clips My flow's sick, my sh**'s dead, every b**h I know, a n***a gets head Everywhere I go, a n***a 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 k**er 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 n***a, kicks harder than Bruce Lee Me then compared to me now, I don't think you knew me These n***as 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 ba** with a loud bite Put the p**y 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, f** em all style In the race & I'm leading, time to click it up, it's Grind Season You a p**y n***a, 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 f** this world, come punching out Can't stop the grind, still cashing out