Caleb James, Chance The Rapper, Brian Fresco, Tris J - Grind Like Me lyrics

Coach K, what up big dog? Kobe, Juice

Boy you fucking with that peg money bank mob
Keep on flashing all that money
Get your bank robbed
I'm sitting on 24's, new paint job
I call your baby mama up and get a crank job
Your bitch bad man I'm
Talking Kim Porter fine
And she bust it wide open like a Jordan sign
I'm steady posted up with my nigga
We getting so much bread the feds
Think we serving 8 balls
If a nigga out of line, put him in his place
If a nigga talking shit, sock him in his face
See me in the club wilding and I'm going hard
Two fingers in the air, SaveMoney Squad
Blowing on them trees, bad bitch double D's
Niggas popping triple C's and we
Saving all the fees
I got pimps, I got gimps
In the booth I'm the truth
Take a couple shots of Henny
Know that get a nigga loose
These niggas out here working
These niggas out here chilling
She twerking for a living
And working is a killing
And a dime up in my pocket
Got hundreds in my ceiling
That stunner shit is dead, cause savior man
Cause ain't nobody grinding hard like me x5

Tris mane gonna get 'em
Keep a box of toothpicks with him
I put 30 on your mama
Couple big ones on my woman
Going harder than your denim
Caleb got me grilling
We be doing what they hate doing
Better known as women
Honies want to freak me
Man I swear I love it
I just him 'em on site
Swear they never see my covers
Tris mane got 'em by the dozen
Ask your second cousin
She say, "fuck you talking bout?"
He keep it cracking, popping bubbly
So y'all better watch y'all girls
One of y'all in pearls
Boy, I get ahold of them hoes
Got 'em wetter than y'all girls
This one off, Savemoney in the clique
LA swag, blowing cookie in the whip

Super stupid stupid fruity ooey gooey loud
I be moving, truly cruising
Bitches grooving in the crowd
Think your booming? Man my niggas we
Be serving by the pound
George Gervin with the loud
Finger flip the bird with style
Ugh these niggas ain't counting no chips
Ain't got no bricks
On my soul, you fuck niggas
Ain't really on shit, got niggas with clips
That's on my soul, my home, my home
Said I put that on my mind, my dome
Motherfuckers can't grind like me
I'm in my zone, on my own
Me and Caleb on patron
Finna cop a redbone so the team can get blown
I be gone, bitches all in my phone
Talking 'bout this land I own
On my slow, niggas run Chicago