Dead prez, Bun B - Don't Hate My Grind lyrics

[Dead prez, Bun B - Don't Hate My Grind lyrics]

I'm close to the edge don't push me

Yo, this recession got a
Nigga losing calories
Can't get no food in your
Stomach without that salary
Gotta come up by any means, my mentality
Don't wanna dream about it
Gotta bring it to reality
On my side of town, this ain't new
This is life if you ain't lived it then you
Have no idea what it's like
To go to bed with excruciating
Pain in your abdomen
So hungry you can't sleep
You just lay awake imagining
Big dreams, big schemes, big risk takin'
Penitentiary waiting for me if I'm mistaken
Paying dues, can't lose
Failure's not an option
The only way is up when


Your coming from the bottom
Tired of watching all these
Companies get bailed out
And the only thing that poor people
Get is another jail house
That's why ain't nothing patriotic in me
For they system my heart is empty

Don't hate my grind we gotta make a way
Though things is getting tougher everyday
Where there's a hustle there's a way
Don't hate my grind we gotta find a way
Though things is getting rougher everyday
Where there's a hustle there's a way
Don't hate

Another day up in this
Servant concrete village
Trying to live in a world where
They just rob and pillage
I'm waking up in the clothes that
I west to sleep in i pick up my pistol and I
Get back out on the creep
And I see the same bullshit I
Just saw the day befo'
Drugs and the murders and my people
Trying to play me yo
I ain't about that bullshit and
They already know it
I don't want to have to kill
But still I can't show it
So I mean mug them, screw face them
And I twist up hand on my strap while I'm
Balling my other fist up
Pass me the piff and roll
Me another spliff up
Cause one way or another my
Nigga I'm finsta lift up
Above the troubles and the
Stress and the mess
I'm just hoping that the good Lord
Is choosing me to bless
I'm tired of this world trying to
Fuck me like a pussy
My nigga I'm close to the edge don't push me

Don't hate my grind we gotta make a way
Though things is getting tougher everyday
Where there's a hustle there's a way
Don't hate

Ain't no retirement from this profession
Plan B is the Smith & Wesson it's reliable
No 401k for this runaway slave
Fuck tomorrow when we hungry today
But, you don't here me though
We be surviving off of Cheerios and videos
We get a dose of the
High-fructose and there we go
A recipe for the grind, AKA the struggle
AKA the muscle, AKA the hustle
It's hard enough for us to trust one another
When I see you as a threat
Not my sister or my brother
I hope one day we put this all behind us
And resurrect the grind museum for
Memories to remind us

I feel like Melle Mel on "The Message"
I'm close to the edge don't push me
I'm trying to hold my head but it's
Hard out here for a pimp man
The cemetery's waiting for you
If you slip man another day of oppression
They call it possession
It's media misdirection
But, you know what get's
Greeted by repression?
A long overdue, much needed insurrection
It's a cold world, but I'm a grown man
And a grown man needs power in his own hands
Ain't no sitting around, waitin' complainin'
Unless your in love with the plantation

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