South Rd

[Intro: Jack Nicholson from The Departed & DJ Green Lantern]
In this country, one guy get the items
And the other guy, pays 'em
No ticky, no laundry
Let's go to Southside Queens right now
Grind Music, Wize G
Lakewood, come on

[Verse 1]
Uh, uh, senseless, school is never where I learned my lessons
Rooftoops with boomboxes where my searches ended
Famous, I wanted ever since my mind could think it
Handcuffed in the back of Impalas fo' public drinkin'
If Grind Music ain't discover me
I'd pro'ly be a alchi in recovery, now I'm just a addict with a one to three
Contractor bring back the suckеr free
Game in a choke 'til the brokе niggas live comfortably
In the back of a dollar van, with the gats and a driver, man
Thinkin' 'bout my mama, I just need a couple dollars, man
I'ma honest, and I try to be the hardest worker
Even though my pro'lems bigger, I just got a life preserver
Man the streets is cold, every day it's three below
And in a week or so, I might just be with Keyshia Cole
My story is told, walkin' down glory's road
Grindin' forever you could tell by my dirty toes

[Chorus]
I walk a good mile, I wear a good shoe
I might just be wild, I might be brand new
I talk with such style, my voice is clear blue
My mic sound nice, I check ya one, two
And uh, one, two, and uh
If you feelin' like a gangsta, bust ya hammer
If you livin' a hustler, know the grammar
And if you struggle like I struggle, then nothin' matters, go

[Verse 2]
Vicious, I do my murder smooth like blowin' kisses
My flow is known fo' switchin', prone to give you motion sickness
The mic's the murder weapon, me myself's a cold defendant
Exotic voice box, melodic tone disturb ya senses
In front of curbs and fences, stash up a perfect sentence
Trigger with urgent stressors, sellin' the herbal essences
Aasim, a verbal menace, ghetto or mechanic
Servin' to wear my annex, and my whole persona matches
That of a soldier, schizophrenic, the newest bandit
Spit in a ya food, a savage, in a mood to prove my madness
Dunny, the money is funny in my pockets now
I move in silence every promise microscopic now
I make the honeys smile, the profile is somethin' wow
I came for nothin' 'bout a mother gutter, what a style
Just a humble child hustle fo' the crumbs, I'm tryna run 'em down
Hopin' that the streets won't try to gun 'em down

[Chorus]
I walk a good mile, I wear a good shoe
I might just be wild, I might be brand new
I talk with such style, my voice is clear blue
My mic sound nice, I check ya one, two
And uh, one, two, and uh
If you feelin' like a gangsta, bust ya hammer
If you livin' a hustler, know the grammar
And if you struggle like I struggle, then nothin' matters, go