Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fit For The Grind 2, artist - Cam'Ron. Date of issue: 28.04.2008
Song language: English
Fit For The Grind 2 |
| I’m seein everything, from currupt politics |
| 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 |