Mack 10, Cash Money Millionaires - Steady Grinding lyrics

All the way (Cook it up, cut it up)
Huh? (Chop it up)
Uh huh (Uh, uh) , uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh huh, for sure

Mack 10 say he got 'em and
He serve 'em for six
But I'm the Birdman, nigga
I need to score some shit
I need a warehouse full with
Pet Rotts and bulls couple of choppers
MAC-11 and some Hot Boy hoods
My lil' bitch Keisha said she hit
The mall for some goods
She gon' bring it straight to daddy
Break her off with the wood
The beauty shop stay poppin' 'cause
These zones keep rockin'
And my phone keep clockin' 'cause
These hoes keep jockin'
Just bought a new 6 with the Brabus kit
Put me on the floor with two nines on my hip
The reason the drought 'cause the
Feds done bust' my ship
Got a crew of head busters
That will split your shit
Got a old and young bitch
That'll take that trip
Hit the strip with the work
Four hundred a zip gave my nigga M the call
Go break them bricks
Go flood that Magnolia 'cause
I want that bitch
KC, take this Glock, make will of the spot
Tanto, Tito and Wap, y'all hug the block
And we gon' tell the police this
This where money be clocked
And they can suck a nigga dick
'cause the hustle don't stop

You could beg, shorty
You could keep it dirty
You could cook a birdie
You could cut it and serve it
And I keep it real and I play the field
And I know when to deal and
I know when to kill
And I get the guns and I collect the funds
And I make all the runs and
I can play the drums
You could hang in the jungle
You could push them bundles
You could drive a Bentley
You could drive a Hummer (Look)

Nigga know that I got that work
So he plottin' and watchin'
Tryna see when I'm gone so he
Could break in my housin'
I'ma bake a cake for 'em
Make 'em think I'm out of town
I know he ear hustlin' I'm
On my monkey talkin' loud
Tellin' my rounds, I'll be there
Pick me up from the port
On my way to Nashville
Ten bricks I'm gonna score
Probably get a lil' dope 'cause
That dope make more money
Twenty dollars for a bag
Half a grams for a hundred
The nigga just don't know I'm
On top of my game
Should have keep it to himself
But instead he told Elaine
That "I'ma get that nigga Turk
So I got to bust his brains"
'Cause if I let that nigga slide
Then he gon' try to do it again
So I gotta handle mine
Get rid of the bitch quick bust him up fast
Throw him in a lake and spilt
Jack who? Take what from who? Not me
Get a bullet in your head
Leave that ass in the streets

You could beg, shorty
You could keep it dirty
You could cook a birdie
You could cut it and serve it
And I keep it real and I play the field
And I know when to deal and
I know when to kill
And I get the guns and I collect the funds
And I make all the runs and
I can play the drums
You could hang in the jungle
You could push them bundles
You could drive a Bentley
You could drive a Hummer

From the land of the drive-bys
Low ridin' and shit talkin'
Sherm smoke, crack sellin'
Blood and Crip walkin'
Mack 1-0's the name, nigga
Hustlin' is my thang, nigga
CMR and west side, Hoo-Bang' is the gang
Nigga recognize the G in me
Off top we wig-splitters
Young and thuggin' like Turk and
Them head bustin' niggas, check it
I like the funk and shoot first
Is what they tell me
And no matter what it cost
Slim and Baby gon' bail me
I fight all my murders and
Dope cases from the bricks
Known and loved by every hoochie, bitch
And project chick 'Cause I floss ice and buy
Crack at the boss price
And I been fucked and sucked by
All my hoes at least twice
I'm reppin' killa Cali
But down with them south niggas you know
Them uptown gold and platinum mouth niggas
Mack stay cocked and loaded
Down to ride for the cause
We keep it crackin' from Crenshaw
To the Mardi Gras chicken hawk
Gang affiliated and drug related
I'm a drop-top Bentley pushin' nigga
With my crop braided from the feet up
G'd up is my everyday behavior
A million dollar nigga still
Rockin' Chuck Taylors
The feds worse then the jackers
Tryna keep me in sight
Gotta take backstreets and alleys to
Get home every night
Mack is too much of a rider
I could never be a sucker
I'ma ball 'til I fall and keep
It gangster as a motherfucker

You could beg, shorty
You could keep it dirty
You could cook a birdie
You could cut it and serve it
And I keep it real and I play the field
And I know when to deal and
I know when to kill
And I get the guns and I collect the funds
And I make all the runs and
I can play the drums
You could hang in the jungle
You could push them bundles
You could drive a Bentley
You could drive a Hummer

For sure, nigga there you have it, boy
You understand?
Nigga like me went on the west
Coast and planted some trees
And came up with a nigga named Mack Dime
So how you love that, nigga?
Like a man, you gotta admit it
Suga Slim, theatrics, nigga, we done did it
You understand? Hot Boys for life
Cash Money Millionaires