[Chorus 2X: Bun B]
Cus when times is hard, we gon hustle
And when the money get low, we gon grind
See they don't treat a nigga fair
But we really don't care
Cus even though we broke, we gon shine

[La the Darkman]
It's about that time, if you wanna grind, you know how I'm feeling
Move them os, trying to stack my paper to he ceiling
Lord willing, I'm a see more than a couple million
Couple grams, couple coups, couple jeeps, and I'm chilling
I got work for cheap, Air Ones on my feet
And it's always winter cis I keep the heat
So discreet, but I'm heavy, rims twenty four pervellys
And my range same color as strawberry jelly
I'm like DMX in Belly, putting down a small town
And my gun will blow the nose off of any clown
Ask around, I'm a mobster, eating shrimp and lobster
LA, I'm a done, these dudes are just imposters

[Chorus 2X]

[La the Darkman]
I be in Texas, nigga getting grip, hennessey to sip
I-10 is the highway from them out of state trips
With them grips, heading to New York, stick em with the fork
And I ball like pumpkin for the love of the sport
Naked bitches taking pictures for the love of my riches
Stick tight with my niggas, stay far from them snitches
Suberbs to the trenches, I work the whole turf
Any problem with my paper, somebody will get hurt
Riding Benz in the back slw, sipping on Yak
See me now, I dun came a long way selling crack
And I move like it's telling me, Atlanta to Tennessee
Bums and yay, weed, plants, or that ecstasy

[Chorus 2X]