Letra de 'Grind 2 Shine' de Doughboyz Cashout

Gotta get this money
I grind, Gotta get this paper
I grind, Gotta get this money
Alright

I had to listen to Clay, he told me grind to shine
Summertime of '09, '09 was mine
Now it's '010, nothin' but Rosé, kush rollin'
Scat got me tatted, so I show skin
Bitches on my dick like Trojans, they wanna hold hands
Instead, I leave they heart broken, my money ain't foldin'
I ball like Mo Williams, winter time, go Timbs
Mink with the hood when it's snowin'
Yo baby mama said on the songs I be goin'
So, she keep her legs open, and let me go in
Cause when you shine they head or tails like tokens
When I'm done with you baby, I'm goin' to fuck yo friend
Some niggas say they fuckin' with us, they must be jokin'
We go in, runnin' through this white like we plowing
Here's some advice, don't leave a nigga when he broke then
Cause when he come up, yo ass gon' wanna run up
Grind to shine nigga

I grind 2 shine, got big money all on my mind
So if you cross me, you die
Cause I been hustling all my life

Everything that I got I had to hustle for
Ice came from pumpin' blow, get money, fuck a ho
Grind hard stack loot, Off-setts, black Coupes
Black .40 Cals, Black Louie belt, black boots
Went from a cute piece of Kush to a couple pounds
Had to stay focused, had to put them Rose bottles down
No clubs for me, naw I'm busy in the streets
Sellin Kush and Raw here, movin Oxy's OT
Everyday I'm making sells, pounds comin' through the mail
Bout to cop a V-12, thanks to my clientele
Foreign clothes, foreign kicks, Foreign blunt, Foreign whips
I guess it's safe to say, Payroll on some Foreign shit
Use to cop hard Oz, hoping for a Brick
19 years old, I was paying Mortgage bitch
I was told ain't no money like Blow money
Now a nigga blow money, everything I own paid cash, hard, dough money

You gotta crawl before you walk, walk before you run
Running red lights, smoking weed like Tommy Bunz
Fuckin' up my lungs, pocket full of Honey Buns
I ain't stoppin til' I get a ton, and that's real talk
I do this shit for my real niggas, real trap stars
Dope runners and them brick flippers
And my niggas, locked behind bars, just know that I'mma ball for yall
24s on the car, 26s on my truck, Hollow tips for the body, get that ass fucked up
I ain't got time to play, bitch I'm on a paper chase
Speed ballin, my whole team ballin' like Spalding
Got kids to feed, got bills to pay, I ain't got time to play
This shit real out here, I'm from motor city bitch, you get killed out here
I ain't stoppin til' I get a couple Mil' out here

If you don't work, you don't eat
Remember nights I couldn't sleep
Trappin' all day, same clothes for a week
You gotta grind til' you shine Ball til' you fall
I seen work I put in work, I don' did it all
I grind for these stacks, cross the line you gettin' wacked
Playin' with my cheese, yo head gon' end up in yo lap
I'm addicted to these Hollows, I'm always poppin' bottles
I lead you the right way, I'm who you should follow
Yall be slackin' all winter, same Retails
And I ain't gon' stop until' I touch a couple L's
I keep the pistol, I'm tryin' to double
I gotta bubble, everyday I gotta hustle
More money more problems, niggas always tell us
You can't get a job when you a Muffuckin felony
Make a toast to success, and what that bring
It's never back to being broke, now I'mma let Clay sing