| It’s our time to shine and make a million
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| We are the ones that bump and grind all day
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| So, we’re ghetto children
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| I come so hard, they put a straitjacket on my tongue
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| Bust flows with handcuffs on my lungs
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| Didn’t have a gun, but the blast still stung
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| Didn’t have a rope, but his ass still hung
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| Living in the ghetto, no time to smile
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| Laws and player haters, get placed in one pile
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| By the time they realized, they legs were chopped off
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| My foes, had already ran 21 miles
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| When it’s time to hit the streets, I ain’t got no friend
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| We’re all living in sin, multiplied by ten
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| Down to spit a word at the speed of the wind
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| And never be ashamed to tell you hoes I punched in
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| You came to the table ready to throw quick
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| Wanna see how aggravated my lyrical flow get
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| Got jacked looking for a new target to go hit
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| (You be rapping your ass off K), no shit
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| I see I gotta be the one, to let the world know
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| Just because your words rhyme don’t mean you got flow
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| Y’all don’t wanna run up on K and Z-Ro
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| We was writing on your level at the age of 4
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| Ain’t saying a damn thang talking loud
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| Flows weaker than water still acting proud
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| Every wack ass show you throw, you got mo'
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| Motherfuckers on stage than it is in the crowd
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| On top challengers, I can face those, the coldest in the game, no doubt we rape
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| flows
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| Can you create, tight shit without having to smoke some weed first,
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| oh you can’t case closed
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| I’ma take the game, to levels you never seen
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| Teach you bout delivering, lyrics you never mean
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| Pushing a perpendicular, paragraphs of punishment
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| Mutilating the Devil, and stinging him till you scream
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| Quick to make a lick, then handle the ends
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| Putting tricks to bed, when I’m rattling chins
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| Strangle, hitting from a psychological angle
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| Back door him 'til he feel like he battling twins
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| Been in the game since 1984
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| Love the underground, fuck the radio
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| Need a billion dollars 'fore I leave out the do'
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| So devils and fake partners, so long they gotta go
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| It’s our time to shine and make a million
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| We are the ones that bump and grind all day
|
| So, we’re ghetto children
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| Staying on the grind, all the day long
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| Puffing on a sack, until all the hate gone
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| Steady running, through my veins
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| I gotta go and get a pocket full of change, hustling before all the day gone
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| I been pimping a pen but, probably fluctuation in the nation
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| Of poverty, stricken people
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| So everybody, trying to get a piece of the pie
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| But the pie for white people, in the land of evil
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| Me myself, I’m a goodfella
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| Raining on a hater parade, grab an umbrella
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| Catch you at the light, catch you at the ATM teller
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| Young fella, at his last hour
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| Caught up, in a non sugar coated shower
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| Raw damaging, motherfuckers ain’t managing
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| To get away, from my beam
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| Leave a nigga not standing when, I shoot him and stab him
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| Can’t get away, from my team
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| Ain’t nothing but killers and drug dealers, and blood spillers in one spot
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| Eagle talons hollow points, and regulars in one Glock
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| Take it out, it take one cock
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| Take over the whole city, but begin with one block
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| It’s a promise, of paper will put a pimp plump out a pocket side
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| Motherfucker I’m willing to kill, and willing to die
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| Any nigga willing to try, cause I don’t bar nothing
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| Leaving son of a bitches, in stitches
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| For my riches, cause I’m paid in cash
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| Running up on em, where the wet marijuana square
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| Fried out, who’s gonna save his ass
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| Sick cause I don’t like busting a men, I gotta get my grub on
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| So my family, can get they grub on
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| And when we grubbing, it’s a family affair
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| Gotta get enough grub, for everybody to grub on
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| Everyday all day, on a mission to make that money
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| Gotta get that pay, K dash Rizino and Z-Riggy-Riggy Ro
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| Gon get our share, and fuck ass and for
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| We taking it, leaving bald spots in they hair
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| Life is hard, but it’s fair
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| It’s our time to shine and make a million
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| We are the ones that bump and grind all days so we’re ghetto children
|
| Penitentiary chances, taken
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| We’re risking our own lives
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| But now, we pimp a pen all day collecting G’s
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| It’s our time to shine and make a million
|
| We are the ones that bump and grind all day so we’re ghetto children
|
| Penitentiary chances taken
|
| We’re risking our own lives
|
| But now, we pimp a pen all day collecting G’s |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lyrical Grind (feat. Z-Ro) , by - K Rino. Song from the album K-Rino and the Texas All-Stars (South Park Coalition), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп