feat. Z-Ro, Lil' Flex, Buddah Man) [Hook:] I've got to stack my paper daily, (on my grind) Keeping ways this crooked game can pay me, (on my mind) On
my top, I be out my mind, but dat don't stop nothing, I still be on my grind, I still be on my gang, I still be on my shit, I'm still a hot boy that'll
end I pop my collar in the club, get my drank on and in the winter man I gotta put the mink on I'm a pimp I got my picks and chooses with 'em I got too
bounce the bounce for me Come on [B.G.] All day on Monday it must be on the grind Cause that night is going down round the bottom line Tuesday night pop
tapes that the DJ's make Twenty bucks a pop and they run non-stop and the jams are hot, to the very last drop POP POP in your car or your Jeep or whatever
out for the chips and the wealth Tie you on the truck have you piss on yourself Catchin' dips on the belt Whatever I say is being felt The words off my
hotties and they seduce my Jimmy I'll be screamin gimmie body Make em all scream my name out gimmie my props and don't ya love how this Thug nigga beat
my strap Back like a cobra, I stay drunk, cause I'm a mad man Whenever sober, on a one man mission My ambition to hold up the rap game While I pluck
the same night Yo Killa I don't think they readin my name right Cause it don't take a genius to see that i'm way nice I pop, pop, pop that thing When
up in corrections? They come on get a 9, nigga me grind to perfection It's murder when they found the gun now they doing ballistics But they can't find
they love me Black Chucks, black skullies, leather Pelle-Pelle I take spills over raymo shit, I'ma fan Got through the silver duck tape on my trait old handle The women on my
drive Nigga you's a window shopper Mad as fuck when you see me ride by [Verse 1] Summertime white porche carrera is milky Im on the grind let my paper
you imagine if my hands was on work, I don't know [Chorus: 50 Cent] Nah nigga I don't know, I don't know who got you I don't know who stabbed you, I
My flow, my show brought me the doe That bought me all my fancy things My crib, my cars, my pools, my jewels Look nigga I got K-Mart and I ain't change
money stay on my mind, so I stay on the grind Plus niggas like to stun, so I stay wit' my nine I ain't the type nigga that be out, runnin' his mouth Talkin
pop nuttin' You said you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin' You ain't a friend of mine, (huh) You ain't no kin of mine, (nah) What makes you think that I'ma run up on
I stay on the grind Niggaz on my dick more than my bitch, I stay on they mind They aint nothin they could do to stop my shine This is God's plan homey, this ain't
ready to go (OKAY!) [Chorus x2] [Bridge: 50 Cent] My flow, my show brought me the dough That bought me all my fancy things My crib, my cars, my crews My
