On the Grind [C&S Version]

I'm on the grind all day until the sun go down

Putting paper in my pockets, grinding all year round

I'm on the block with the gangstas, staying ten toes down

I'm on the grind

I'm on the grind all night until the sun come up

Counting cash up in the cut, trying to make me a buck

I'm making moves, stacking paper cause I'm handing enough

I'm on the grind

Check me out baby

I got money on my mind, Ben Frank on my brain

Intoxicated by visions of chains and diamond rings

One thing here to obtain is fortune, forget the fame

Been balling since back in the game, the change ain't strange

These lames tend to complain, it's a goddamn shame

You think you're flyer than a plane but you washed up in the drain

Baby peep the picture frame, it's all work no play

My hustle schedule is simply all night, all day

I'm snapping like paparazzi, I'm plotting on Maserati

Been grinding since lodi dodi, trying to earn that pay

Collecting that green paper, I'm scheming and pulling capers

I'm giving these broads the vapors, from the four to the tre

I'm on the grind

I'm on the grind all day until the sun go down

Putting paper in my pockets, grinding all year round

I'm on the block with the gangstas, staying ten toes down

I'm on the grind

I'm on the grind all night until the sun come up

Counting cash up in the cut, trying to make me a buck

I'm making moves, stacking paper cause I'm handing enough

I'm on the grind

Let me tell you a little bit about myself

My hustle is Godzilla, my muscle is King Kong

My mind is Einstein, my flow is off the dome

My grind is dope fiend, addicted to counting green

My money is Bill Gates, my balling is Yao Ming

I'm not impressed with bling, I'm more concerned with ching

Grinding since I was a teen, money over everything

Seen I'm all about the paper stacks and bank rolls

The 'Lacs on fours with drank poured and dank rolled

Hustle is my hobby, inspired by Johnny Gotti

Call me Gambino Wally cause it's time to collect

VS up in the Johnny watch, shining so clear

The face look like a mirror, call it time to reflect

I'm on the grind

I'm on the grind all day until the sun go down

Putting paper in my pockets, grinding all year round

I'm on the block with the gangstas, staying ten toes down

I'm on the grind

I'm on the grind all night until the sun come up

Counting cash up in the cut, trying to make me a buck

I'm making moves, stacking paper cause I'm handing enough

I'm on the grind

Okay, uh

Heavyweight champ of the flow, it's people's champ in the building

People love it, had to do it again so cherish the moment

I stand with the soldiers but I'm the sultan

You compare me to no one, prepare for atonement

I'm through with taking fruit from the garden

On my grind like brakes and bad rotors

This your last notice, keep it rolling and get it popping

I take twelve houses, get 'em pumping like Mr. Carter

I'm like Rich Porter, Aaron Jones in the form of flowing

You should grind harder, matter fact grind smarter

You need to map it out so you can get where you going

I got where I'm at by planning how to get where I'm going

And if a nigga ever try to approach us, we sparked it out, think

Y'all rappers and actors, weak tyrants and pirates

Take y'all niggas to the plant, walk it out, drink

Atlantic ocean punch, Freas'll never lunch

Grind all day until the sun darken out, hey

Y'all niggas take breaks, we going all out

And we riding the car out 'til it conk out

Then we cop up some more cars, we rap stars

It's the Roc, we birth niggas then rock niggas

Lay a nigga down in his own house then ride off

I'm connected, I pop off then hide out

Down in Houston with Paul Wall, y'all all soft

Like my Gucci leather, y'all never there

I'm like look who's here like Punchinella

I'm on my grind forever