Blam Blam

Grindtime (oh the mercy)

Yo one time for yo man this is Grindtime check and (Welcome To The Grindhouse!) And we gonna do it West Indian Style for you this time yo sniff and cash on the B'

When the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's nowhere to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Once again when the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's no where to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Rude boys if you feel me bust your gun

Usually the two would be

Beside me when I cruise the street

Blue your feet blue your seat

He who moves usually

Cool it be, slow your roll

These niggas here dey cool with me

Rock the same shoes as me

Went to the same school as me

News would be,

That these niggs I am tryin bring up on ya, I just called to let ya know,

You need to keep the K up on ya

Chop up all these credit cards

Career is all that laid up on ya

Skeet skeet,

Move fast don't let them bitches lay up on ya

You know you really wanna be rollin instead

Hey there some niggas out here tryin to put a hole in yo head

Hey and sold ya for bread

Findin the life that we chose

Fast cars and this money

And these trifling hoes

Keep it real!

Who wanna test-a the goon or the pride

I keep it on my hips they call me onsly

Go and let a few fly

That made a few die

Some fell straight down others handglide

But none of them survive the rising of the tide

Drown in they own blood

Like pigs in the mud

Insert a few buds

Make sure he don't bud

Or toss or throw away

I don't hold the grub

When the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's nowhere to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Once again when the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's no where to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Rude boys if you feel me bust your gun

Cancer sniff, hands just split

Scoop me in the jag and dip

Nag a bitch and flag a ship

Over there like a bag of chips

Whodini and genie out of a bikini that's a magic trick

Abra Kadabra, I caught it all on camera

(While I)My major stamina

Fuck all the amateurs

Smokin lavender

It's slightly lighter than purple with a murk

My family matters but ain't no Urkels in my circle of trust

Amongst eachothe, we trust each brother

There's another mad situation,

Sad situation

That every nigga I know is in a bad situation (Situation)

I'm tired of waiting,

Tired of being patient,

Tired of waking up wondering if we gonna make it (gonna make it)

My hands are full

I'm a Grindtime disciple

Right hand the Bible

Left hand the rifle (a rifle)

We freed us boys

And we both got degrees

I got mine from the schools

He got his from the street

Told me "little nigga don't be like me"(like me) yes I didn't listen no disrespecting he

(now back to me)It's kind of sad

That that's all I want to be

A member of the game

Rappin and using slang

And even at career day

I said the same thang

Teacher shook her haid

"What a god damn shame"

But really motherfucker

Who really should you blame

I had protica my environment

Workin towards retirement

Just another motherfucker

Trying to come up

Hand above the water

And Get head from your daughter

But who gives a fuck

Go on and sign me up

Big Slim in the building nigga throw ya G'z up!

When the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's nowhere to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Once again when the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's no where to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Rude boys if you feel me bust your gun

The rugor man the toolastan

From here to Jerusalem

Used to move it down

Twelve hundred sixty two grams

Heavy chevy runnin fuck it

It's a bucket trap car

Red dogs to my nigga

Trying to trap a track star

Hell naw we under rated

Down'll be the day mo'

Catch me in da eight mo'

Yeah I got the yay mo'

Slip double played partna

Parkin lot pimpin on em

Droppin toppin flippin on em

Cop a block and flip it on em

Pussy boy boxy boy

You ain't never shattered shatta boy

You a boxy boy

Never shat a boy

That's why I shot all ya shattas boy

Left em dead

On all my hotter boys

Blunts of madosia

Saturate the polo

Leave a man older nickle plated fofo

Strike like made cobras

Car jot em come get em

Cause his life over

Tell 'em Sheriff John Brown

If he come through town

He will be shot down

'pon sight 'pon day 'pon night

He'll be dead upon the river

With them boxy boys

And them in for my niggas

Beaten swollen bloated like an elephant man

Blunts swollen, bloated like an elephant man

Past getting high, smokin' for the hell of it man

If you ain't Grindtime

You irrelevant man

Not Peel, not Jones Nario shit

I'm sorry hoe

Not Zack not Jack not Bill Collector A

Fuck you very much

Hope you have a bad day

Grindtime

(Chuckle)

When the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's nowhere to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Once again when the glock go blam blam, (boom, boom)

You die you don't get jiggy done you're done done

No there's no where to hide nowhere to run run

Grindtime motherfuckers here we come come

Rude boys if you feel me bust your gun