| 7−13 the truth, ok that’s right | 
| We stuck out here in the streets nigga | 
| Still searching for a piece of mind | 
| The hustle is all we got, I’ma grind to the end nigga | 
| I take this shit to the limit, everything from my heart nigga | 
| They say I’m still, one the best there is | 
| Been on the hustle getting paid, for some months over years | 
| Ask God every night, to remove my fears | 
| I done lost a whole lot, but had to lose them tears to switch gears | 
| A lot of niggaz, follow my lead | 
| My team strong fuck failing cause we must succeed, a rare breed | 
| Crazy, when I smoke that weed | 
| I guess these constant bad habits put my mind at ease, I gotta breathe | 
| The streets, get a lot of my time | 
| Got me praying real hard, for a piece of my mind | 
| Yeah I’m still pressing forward, fuck lagging behind | 
| Bout my bidness everyday, while these niggaz is crying and I ain’t lying | 
| Mash cause I must get mine | 
| When your days get dark, you know it’s tougher to shine | 
| Slow it down get your head right, then unwind | 
| Never gave up I stayed on the grind my nigga, it’s my time | 
| I’m still one of the best of my kind | 
| Out here working, and I’m searching for a piece of my mind | 
| Lord knows, I’m out here hustling for the rest of my time | 
| Crawling back, and still looking for the front of the line I’m on the grind | 
| Hey this shit a grind (grind), this shit a grind (grind) | 
| This shit a grind, I can’t stand wasting time | 
| So I’m getting mine (mine), I’m getting mine (mine) | 
| I’m getting mine, putting it all on the line | 
| Yeah, was bred to get it in the hardest times | 
| Two options where I’m from, you either starve or grind | 
| Southside nigga, we was taught to shine | 
| Mind of a G bitch, hustling this heart of mine | 
| I’m dying, what you gon' do when that court decline | 
| And your gal bitching in your ear, because your daughter crying | 
| Grind, mayn a helping hand is hard to find | 
| You gotta hit these streets become a beast, morphing time | 
| Diamonds round my neck, same thang around my wrist | 
| Just a year ago, these niggaz claimed I wouldn’t amount to shit | 
| Now me and my niggaz hopping off of planes, counting chips | 
| I went from getting hate, to treated like a king around this bitch | 
| I got my foot on they neck, and I won’t let go | 
| And still pimping pens, till I’m platinum in the ghetto | 
| Yeah, I ain’t stunting I ain’t capping | 
| I’m just motivating these real niggaz, showing em it can happen I’m grinding | 
| I swear I’m on a grind, on that all night shit | 
| Anything gotta be better, than them all white bricks | 
| Feds lurking through the neighborhood, gotta watch how I talk on the phone | 
| So much going through my mind, can’t express it on one song | 
| I’m in the field as we speak, on my gorilla shit | 
| Seen myself on TV, I couldn’t picture this | 
| Do it for the smell of success, that’s fresh air | 
| You thinking bout tomorrow, I’m stacking for next year | 
| Kids need food, daddy stay on a mission | 
| So fuck getting a plate, I’m building my own kitchen | 
| Hungry all about my scratch, palms itching | 
| Haters sick thinking I won’t explode, this bomb’s ticking |