SL Jones - Grindmode lyrics

[Verse 1: Mookie Jones] Size 12, just to k** the roaches Misses know my guys well, pluto never on no ho sh** Autoooo fly as hell, shaking hands with the owners All the numbers in my cell, I'm probably f**ing your b**h Notice boar it in half the gla** get warm I got plugs with Osama, Al-Queda ain't got the best bomb Check it I could do this sh** with my left arm always armed To a charm so a players chest wrapped in Teflon singing [Hook] I'm in grindmode a player stay working hard You know how fast time goes when you keep it on your job Respect my mind though we making moves like the mob Mackin' fine hoes maxing credit cards (Repeat) [Verse 2: SL Jones] Don't fill my cup too high, give that Bombay room to breathe Graduated from the streets, always put trap yay by degrees I be working on my masters, read a lick just like a chapter I was raised by Cadillacers, and Chevrolets the league Of extraordinary players, I was drafted at an early age Fully loaded candy coated sitting on them twirly thangs Gorgeous babe scratching n***as, baby face attractive k**ers Crawling like a caterpillar, swangin' swervin' turn up turn up The block dry no chap stick, skinny jeans but them racks fit Country boy no accent, skinny b**h on my fat eghh She like it I love it, she fit right in my budget I call it public aggression when we be fighting in public I'm her underground king, she my Harriet Tubman Jonzie shinning on these boys, you would think lightning strucken Known for moving with a gang way cooler with the slang Swag drippin' everywhere, police couldn't remove the stains mayne [Hook] [Verse 3: Mookie Jones] As I stroll between the states, 'bout to catch a wave Yeah my flow between the lakes, getting blown at a home Eating Kobe clean steak, like homes in the zone jones Kobe ring eight, from paper plates to paper plates Mama I told you we'd be straight Roll another eighth, crack another case Open up the safe, I'm 'bout to pack another place Jonzie in your face like acne at a rapid rate That plastic don't make you fake, word to the ratchet on my waist ??? sh** happen word to fate Its that fast life living, we ain't trying to hit the brakes Drive that murder burger until small fries get the shake We value meals young artists without a deal In a war we decide you got to k** but P.A.N.'s don't die, we just regroup and rebuild In a field for the trill, them shoes seen and filled [Hook]