feat. Z-Ro



[Verse 1]

When I was in the sixth grade, these niggas was bitch made

They was thinking science, I was thinking get paid

I always kept a plan to get doe

Like selling the same shit I use to steal from outta stop-n-go

I use to run a paper route

But that ain't pay me enough, I was still on the bus

My momma would always tell me don't you rush to get old

But rarely did I listen to the shit I was told

I was a ghetto boy long before the rap group existed

I use to take my lunch money and pitch it

I stayed on suspension, I ain't fuckin' with school

Truant officers be chasin' me, I'd give 'em the blues

Hit the pipes off of Roomer just to pass the time

Shoot the shit and walk to Shamrock, stole me a wine

Get smashed and hit the bus stop when school let out

Get off at tina house and bust that cot

Walk up outta Ridgemont smelling like fish in my pocket

Then back to the southside walking home from Watkins

I stopped to see the homies off of Huckala street

All you game in the front yard bumpin' this beat



[Chorus: Z-Ro]

Ever since I could remember I been on my grind,

All the time

Nothing but paper and pussy and the finer things on my mind

I had to Shine

By any means necessary I had to go out and get it

And come back wit it, thug life I was wit it

My balls and my word told a nigga that the world was mine

That's why I stay on the grind



[Verse 2]

I remember when the dope game started up, serving the hypes

I was seeing more doe than I ever seen in my life

I was rocking up eightballs and knowing the shake

Kept a thousand in my pocket, twenty more in the safe

I had my grandmother guessing how I got that shit

'Cause every other day I had to buy new kicks

Ol