Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Kept Grindin', artist - Insane Clown Posse. Album song Featuring Freshness, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.10.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psychopathic
Song language: English
Kept Grindin' |
We kept hustlin |
We kept grindin |
The overwhelming workload that it takes |
The shakin' off snakes |
The pains and the aches |
Wrong moves and mistakes |
They disrupt, they corrupt and distract you from your mission |
And all those who let go and spend their lives wishin and missin |
I couldn’t listen in school, I felt I had a different callin |
But all everybody did was roll their eyes and start yawnin |
But this is real life and only you is livin through your eyes |
There are dreamers, those who want it |
And us, who won’t be denied |
Its a struggle every day, success is far from fuckin free |
Unless you plucked it from a tree, with J and ICP |
Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J (Shaggy: «Refuse to Lose!») |
Livin' proof do what you got and you can do what you choose |
Hate to sit back on this track like a little bitch and remininsce |
But instead I’ll kick a little history all about the hatchet |
By this time in the game, most motherfuckers, they done fell apart |
In these years we still shinin and we now just gettin our start |
Inner City Posse jumped on the scene and we was mad crewed up |
In the end when shit got rough and tough, it was just the two of us |
When you was in the club gettin ya grind and ya sip on |
We was in the parkin lot, hittin up cars, gettin our flyers on |
Did my first show when I was sixteen |
It’s still part of my scheme |
J holdin out a drive-thru window at Burger King to support our dreams |
It seemed like yesterday, the world wasn’t ready for two clown freaks |
But we kept grindin |
Now who on whose dick, lil Bitch shit |
I woke up in the morning with my head on backwords |
Went from street livin to an underground master |
Went from sellin baggies in alleys |
To sellin bangers from here to Cali |
And rollin with the Psychopathic family |
I started up with Krazees, hooked up with Violent J |
The rest is still bein written like a biography |
Don’t think you know my story, cause there’s too much to tell |
Just know that I’ve been underground and I’ve been doin well |
Since the days of makin tapes in the basement |
We came a long way, I’d like to see you do the same shit |
Monoxide, and I’m Twiztid with a Z |
Carnival representin' til I D-I-E |
We met ICP way back, touring once or twice |
They was real cool, Felt like we known 'em all our life |
They said You ever wanna sign with them |
We was like hell yeah we down the ground with friends |
They put us up, this was way before the family era |
When we toured for three years with a t-shirt |
Gettin mixed response from the bleachers and show-goers |
Prepared for rock-throwers and flame-throwers we stayed focused |
In '98 we dropped our first LP |
Psychopathic presentin' Twiztid Mostasteless, the CD |
Go out and get it bitch, shit is cold as ice |
So dope that we released it twice |
And we still here |
It started as a guest spot, Parlayed to a real spot |
Worked behind the scenes before I really got a shot |
In the studio, quick still needin to prove somethin |
My skills got me the deal off the CD you know it’s dope |
But it was on now in '99, the first GOTJ |
Ya Dead Homie Blaze and ABK rippin the stage |
The first time I ever got to grind in the sunshine |
Six minutes shorter the EP’s full play time |
Still confusin some, give love for One Less G |
That’s when we moved to the streets and people started hearin me |
From Colton Grundy to Clockwork Grey my skills increased |
Don’t believe me? |
Pick up my next CD |
Last House on Dead Street |
I keep it grindin like an old set of car brakes |
Started off with a duel player and casette tapes |
By '95 my life was frustrated so I developed my mentals and let the funk |
recreate it |
And then I hit the stage with my homie Blaze, thuggin for life |
City to city tours under the light |
Straight outta Detroit grindin Warrior baby |
I ain’t never gonna stop, my heat’s never on safety |
This is Psychopathic bitch boy and we so sweet |
What you know about the label runnin under the streets? |
This be Anybody Killa homie, like me or not |
Over a hundred thousand sold bitch with one bout to drop |
For real |
Mothafuckas don’t trip I’m one of the youngest homies on the (Otis: «block») |
And keepin it grindin with a (Otis: «dot») |
And on my way to the fuckin (Otis: 'top") |
Because we underneath the surface |
Be prepared to get real hurt bitch |
We came from the gutter and now |
I’m fuckin your mother and workin it |
I know I’m only 24 up in this ho but check it yo |
I was smokin before some of y’all was even startin to grow |
Some of y’all don’t even know |
So many shows by eighteen |
And by my twenty-first I was on the national scene, see |
Been given an oppurtunity to speak my words and yo |
Be keepin it wicked and run with the hatchet |
For sho so smoke your roll |
My name is Bonez and this be O-T |
We murderin fucks til the sun comes up |
That’s why they call us A.M.B |
Hey homie I hope you listen to my rappin |
Cause rappin is all I have it’s all that every fuckin mattered |
Your heart can get shattered your pockets can get fatter |
Just grind like me and mine and you’ll shine like my family |
In the beginning my mission was to make it to the hatchet |
Then I did it and started laughin I grinded and look what happened |
My mind is not on this planet, cause y’all thought that we vanished |
But God’s Hand got my back |
And the game still gets me fuckin mad |
I start poppin off at the mouth when somethin bothers me |
You mothafuckers better give it up for R.O.C |
You mothafuckers better give it up for A.M.B |
DJ Clay mixtapes, gettin paid and makin haters bleed |
All the blood and the tears I spent on most of the years |
And all the time on the grind I conquered most of my fears |
The knowin I would make it and was it worth the sacrifice |
Skippin meals and skippin bills I hoped that it was worth the price |
Of the love of my kids and would they hate me in the end |
For all the time I didn’t spend I knew I’d have to make amends |
So kept the mike in one hand the other gripped on my Glock |
Kept one eye on the prize the other fixed up on the clock |
It was a hustle in my heart that let me know I wouldn’t fail |
Would I end up on the stage or would I end up in a cell |
Then one Monday afternoon I got that call from Psychopathic |
Put the pistol in the drawer and now I’m runnin with the hatchet |
(All: «Woop Woop!») |
I was sixteen young and was never put on |
But was put down strong when Rude Boy gave me a call |
Sayin that the wicked clowns had a party called Big Ballas |
And if I want to come spin and make a couple dollars |
St. Andrew’s Hall (Yeah!) Remember it all (Yeah!) |
When I went into this game who knew I would last this long |
Then when '06 came around you can Fuck the Fuck Off |
It was me and Shaggy 2 Dope I was on my first tour |
And little did I know it was the first of many more |
Now I’m pushin out mixtapes for the Juggalos |
And the love I get from them keeps me higher than some dro |
That’s why I’m standin here, arms crossed |
Just to let you know how we |