Penz, Cam’ron - Fit for the Grind 2 lyrics
Cam'ron [Cam'ron Giles] Manhattan, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Penz, Cam’ron - Fit for the Grind 2 lyrics]
To my cop killers runnin loose
With the hollow tips
Niggas poppin shit, body bags, pop em' quick
Sometimes it's like only me
That acknoledge this when you rapidly movin
Shootin and runnin through life
There's a chance you can crash
Loser be under the pike (Damn)
Man I thought I was nice
Runnin and pumpin the white
Then I slipped the interrogation room
I'm under the light
I felt the pressure, they test ya
And try to make ya rat
But I'm ahead of the weather
So I'm a take the wrap
I was ready cop, time in ready for shot
Then the feds startin talkin bout
I was heavy with rocks
It's the life that I live
Shit'll stay right in my crib
Movement from the allen to the
Feds extra indited the kid
Now they pressin me hard
Talkin bout attendin the L
District attorny like "I recommend
You to tell"
But I live by zoo, scavenger homie a beast
Calabar backsmackin you cowards that
Boney and weak stop flippin them dimes
Cause if you can't do your time
Homeboy, you not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
Yo, won't hear a sound from your kids
They'll get found by the bridge
In a fridge, it's cold
You ain't around for the bibs
Keep the pounds by the ribs
I ain't down for your fibs so high
Yo I had to lie your cuffs around the crib
Where I used to live, but the truth of it is
We is always on the run
I'm harborin a fugitive dust and dirt
They comin in with the cuffs and they hurt
Chirp, we must be alert
Harry start flushin the work
I see the canines ya'll
Put the guns in the cieling
(man, shut the fuck)
I get the numbest feelin
Like I'm done with dealin
Me, James, and Duke, this ain't no fed tale
They came in 10 deep 12 guages, red shells
Now I'm thinkin of foreman, tanya
Maybe lawrence could be they correspondants
Do I got any warrants (shit)
Who droppin the dimes
Fast forward unlock your mind
To the block of mine, off of weed sold 15
Copped out the nine when it rains, it pours
We never seen it drizzle
He got foreign shit, I've seen many nickel
I ain't being fickle, these shots
They gon' tickle my money, honey, bun bun
I love to see it trickle
Vista seas are trickles
(huh) more than sniffles
Pull the pistol on yourself
It'll leave you crippled
Stop flippin them dimes
If you can't do your time
Homeboy, you ain't fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind
You not fuckin fit for the grind