I'll never stop, slow, or quit...I'll continue gridin' till the day I die..
I'm Nox. I'm 21 years old. I've been rapping for as long as I can remember. When I was 14 I did a small demo tape on a karoke machine, the quality was horrible, but it was my first step in the right direction. From there I went to studios, paying out of my own pocket, and here's what I came up with from the ages of 18 - 20. I am now 21.
Story behind the song
I'll never stop, slow, or quit...I'll continue gridin' till the day I die..
Lyrics
I'm doin' fine now, I'm gettin' mine now
all these bitches that's wonderin' why I'm sly now
I gotta rhyme now, Not slangin' dimes now
I'm makin' your money for weight to speak my mind now
Sublime, mind, with power to earn my keep
envy from the green that I turn through sleep
teachin' the right cry, so wives learn to weep
MCs warned, burned, to an urn they seep
I'll stay on the grind, one way or another
wall street, in the day, gangsta ways in the other
trickin' out corners, and gettin' pay from a lover
if you approach my heat, maybe you'll smother
flippin' fries with a tilted hat, crooked smile
swipin' from the drawers, while I'm whipin' the tile
workin' at burger king, makin' 150 a day
that's just how we hustlers play
I've done it all, from restaurants to sales
both legal,and the type that leave you burnin' in hell
I've picked up bricks and mortar, till my muscles swelled
and slang bricks and quarters, and payed my bail
I've tricked out broads, and tricked out whips
left tricks in ditches, robbed for '50 cent'
I've flipped, slipped, with a twist of the wrist, I've ripped
open the bodies oceans of blood from bloods and crips
whatever I gotta do, to make a buck
if bullets are flyin' at you, I suggest you duck
if I gotta slang, or buck, steal a range or truck
life's a bitch, I'll get rich, through pain and luck
it's grimy, how I'm grindin' , no doubt
but you'll find when I'm in line, that the thought of hope's out
I don't mean to brag, but I got shit to boast about
I came all this way from a babe with a closed mouth
how many bitches ride with me? you can't count
don't just sit there and stare, get your hands out
don't you bitches realize by now, your unmanned?, bounce!
see all these hundred dollar bills here, I got fanned out?
it's cuz I'm always the type to get a new scheme
look on my fingers, won't find chips or blue rings
cuz even though I make incredible amounts of cash
flaunt that shit, I'll watch bustas count your cash
flippin' fries in hot vats, flippin' hot gats
takin' baths with dimes, and leavin' shots passed
from packin' to not strapped, what happened to all that?
I'm laughin' at you'll cats, can you dissolve that?
where's the ball at? Side stroke to the corner pocket
That's another hustle, better than when I cock it
better than when the glock hit, open you like a locket
it's either salein' ,stealin' cars or hittin' you wit' a rocket.
you already know I'll stay on the grind
all these fuckin' haters, pay em no mind
I already said that I gotta get mine
so I'm playin' wit' dimes and slayin' with rhymes
Comments
The artist currently doesn't allow comments.