Artist: (Joey 6'1" f/) Slaughterhouse Album: On My Grind Cousin 12" Song: On My Grind Cousin Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Chorus 2X: samples of Jay-Z from "Heart of the City (Ain't No Love)"] "Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin" "Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin" "Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin" "Now gettin money, get-gettin money, get-gettin money" [Joe Budden] L-look look look look look look look I'm on my grind homie, that's the status My apparatus never comprehends a lack of cabbage Ain't gotta floss to the show the world when I'd rather stack it So if your convo don't include it it don't matter-fact it All I saw while bein poor havin a lack of cabbage had me tad savage, I promise to never go back to average Some other niggaz can't help but think sellin crack is lavish I'm willin to bet that them same niggaz ain't in my tax bracket Traded in my all-black with the mask and ratchets For full throttle with models that always ask for marriage If Joey wrote it then you know the notepad is acid You could bet against it, just know whatever you have I'll match it [Chorus] [Royce Da 5'9"] Yeah, me and my niggaz kick it, fuck all the pussy-footin It could be Jersey, Long Beach, or it could be Brooklyn That's because I'm a soldier Diamonds that's cushion cut, sit in my ears but still big as your momma's sofa I carry around a toaster, while tryin to find ambrosia Any nine I'm totin been fired like Omarosa Fuck all your dance tactics, don't get yo' man cracked in Kidnapped and slapped in a van wrapped in Saran plastic Don't get yo' damn ass kicked, by them fantastic furious fo' motherfuckers flashin in front of yo' face without the grandmaster Slaughterhouse nigga, I'm a felon Cops stop me? I'ma tell 'em [Chorus] [Crooked I] (Yeah) You can't fuck with the head honcho, my nacho give ya body holes in your barrio, my vato C.O.B. is cheese over beef like a taco But we still wrap you in them shells like you not dough Gucci, Chuck Taylors and khaki'd up I'm in the Caddy track, blackened Daffy Duck, laffy taffy guts Purple uzi, E pills make for happy sluts and they nasty, tell 'em to pass the panties and they ante up I take 'em home, hit 'em hard as Miguel Cotto You niggaz spell +Nerd+ like Pharrell's logo Real niggaz is all I fucks with You're bigger pussies than the one that just gave birth to the Octuplets [Chorus] [Joell Ortiz] Uhh, ay where that money at? It's weird and why are we here? If it ain't 'bout dough then why the FUCK would you think that I care? E'rything costs, I don't floss but the outfits I wear make me look like a mil' cause it's costin me thousands for gear Couple mo' hundreds for the room gettin balcony air After your daughter caught a quarter Slaughterhouse in the rear Like forty more to get that whore the fuck up outta there Few more bucks to cop a beer, e'ry night's a guap affair I never seen a price tag that my pockets fear I'm like the elevator broke, I get a lot of stairs/stares But me not scared, cause me and Joe will stop your ear Crooked keep a chopper near, Nickel got his Glock in here [Chorus]