Steady Grinding

[Intro]

All the way (Cook it up, cut it up)

Huh? (Chop it up)

Uh-huh (Uh, uh), uh, uh, uh, uh

Uh-huh, for sure

[Verse 1: Baby]

Mack 10 say he got 'em and he serve 'em for six

But I'm the Birdman, nigga, I need to score some shit

I need a warehouse full with pet Rotts and bulls

Couple of choppers, MAC-11 and some Hot Boy hoods

My lil' bitch Keisha said she hit the mall for some goods

She gon' bring it straight to daddy, break her off with the wood

The beauty shop stay poppin' 'cause these zones keep rockin'

And my phone keep clockin' 'cause these hoes keep jockin'

Just bought a new 6 with the Brabus kit

Put me on the floor with two nines on my hip

The reason the drought 'cause the feds done bust' my ship

Got a crew of head busters that will split your shit

Got a old and young bitch that'll take that trip

Hit the strip with the work, four hundred a zip

Gave my nigga M the call, go break them bricks

Go flood that Magnolia 'cause I want that bitch

KC, take this Glock, make will of the spot

Tanto, Tito and Wap, y'all hug the block

And we gon' tell the police this this where money be clocked

And they can suck a nigga dick 'cause the hustle don't stop

[Chorus: Juvenile, Lil' Wayne, Turk]

You could beg, shorty, you could keep it dirty

You could cook a birdie, you could cut it and serve it

And I keep it real and I play the field

And I know when to deal and I know when to kill

And I get the guns and I collect the funds

And I make all the runs and I can play the drums

You could hang in the jungle, you could push them bundles

You could drive a Bentley, you could drive a Hummer (Look)

[Verse 2: Turk]

Nigga know that I got that work, so he plottin' and watchin'

Tryna see when I'm gone so he could break in my housin'

I'ma bake a cake for 'em, make 'em think I'm out of town

I know he ear hustlin' I'm on my monkey talkin' loud

Tellin' my rounds, I'll be there, pick me up from the port

On my way to Nashville, ten bricks I'm gonna score

Probably get a lil' dope 'cause that dope make more money

Twenty dollars for a bag, half a grams for a hundred

The nigga just don't know I'm on top of my game

Should have keep it to himself, but instead he told Elaine

That "I'ma get that nigga Turk, so I got to bust his brains"

'Cause if I let that nigga slide, then he gon' try to do it again

So I gotta handle mine, get rid of the bitch quick

Bust him up fast, throw him in a lake and spilt

Jack who? Take what from who? Not me

Get a bullet in your head, leave that ass in the streets

[Chorus: Juvenile, Lil' Wayne]

You could beg, shorty, you could keep it dirty

You could cook a birdie, you could cut it and serve it

And I keep it real and I play the field

And I know when to deal and I know when to kill

And I get the guns and I collect the funds

And I make all the runs and I can play the drums

You could hang in the jungle, you could push them bundles

You could drive a Bentley, you could drive a Hummer

[Verse 3: Mack 10]

From the land of the drive-bys, low ridin' and shit talkin'

Sherm smoke, crack sellin', Blood and Crip walkin'

Mack 1-0's the name, nigga, hustlin' is my thang, nigga

CMR and west side, Hoo-Bang' is the gang, nigga

Recognize the G in me, off top we wig-splitters

Young and thuggin' like Turk and them head bustin' niggas, check it

I like the funk and shoot first is what they tell me

And no matter what it cost, Slim and Baby gon' bail me

I fight all my murders and dope cases from the bricks

Known and loved by every hoochie, bitch, and project chick

'Cause I floss ice and buy crack at the boss price

And I been fucked and sucked by all my hoes at least twice

I'm reppin' killa Cali, but down with them south niggas

You know, them uptown gold and platinum mouth niggas

Mack stay cocked and loaded, down to ride for the cause

We keep it crackin' from Crenshaw to the Mardi Gras

Chicken hawk, gang affiliated and drug related

I'm a drop-top Bentley pushin' nigga with my crop braided

From the feet up, G'd up is my everyday behavior

A million dollar nigga still rockin' Chuck Taylors

The feds worse then the jackers, tryna keep me in sight

Gotta take backstreets and alleys to get home every night

Mack is too much of a rider, I could never be a sucker

I'ma ball 'til I fall and keep it gangster as a motherfucker

[Chorus: Juvenile, Lil' Wayne]

You could beg, shorty, you could keep it dirty

You could cook a birdie, you could cut it and serve it

And I keep it real and I play the field

And I know when to deal and I know when to kill

And I get the guns and I collect the funds

And I make all the runs and I can play the drums

You could hang in the jungle, you could push them bundles

You could drive a Bentley, you could drive a Hummer

[Outro]

For sure, nigga

There you have it, boy

You understand?

Nigga like me went on the west coast and planted some trees

And came up with a nigga named Mack Dime

So how you love that, nigga?

Like a man, you gotta admit it

Suga Slim, theatrics, nigga, we done did it

You understand?

Hot Boys for life

Cash Money Millionaires