Artist: La the Darkman & Willie The Kid f/ Bun B Album: Dead Presidents Song: We Gone Grind Typed by: Davida.b. [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]