lirik lagu drip label - on the grind
verse 1: shawty hit my phone saying she live on the bay, if i slide i’m on the yacht i’ll eat it like buffet, all these clones be pussy yeah they tryna ride the wave, they be like some chalk on sidewalks always gonna fade, copping ice in public yeah balenciaga shades, no not talking grey but i got a couple maids, they not even white but they talking how they slayed, they tryna seduce mе i don’t even convey, hopping on thе west but from the east not part of trey, i don’t just bitch, bitch i fucking spray, locked in with a plan i’m blowing up like i’m a nade, and i got my drips my brother dan rocking a fade, no not like that the ninja meme that shit be decayed, all these rappers shitty and their songs be overplayed, selling up they soul just for them extra plays, their next project coming never but they’ll say that shit delayed, mobbing in my city bitch like a brigade, no this beat ain’t techno but i got a blade, ain’t been rapping long only since like 7th grade, but like every minute i got my money made
hook: bitch we on the grind, said a hundred times, gonna be a legend so my shit won’t decline, like your fucking card set that up by design, in the field calling plays like i’m danny dimes, better stay behind, don’t intertwine, end you in a few seconds like a fucking vine, don’t be asking for the smoke get it then you whine, calculated in a beef like i’m using sine, at the party i’ll recline, bitches do lines, how you gonna stop me when white boy on the rise, say my shit not be hitting gotta check your eyes, and go check your pants cause they gotta be some lies
verse 2: posted with my drips we be mobbing in the street, moving like the mafia bitch you can’t compete, italians in new york just accept defeat, chilling at the spot and my shit be on repeat, my plug got the gas but he don’t work at sheetz, and yk when i call him he moving discreet, imma be damned if they finding a receipt, flying to miami and staying with the heat, they hearing my shit and they know they obsolete, why these rappers in my dms asking for a feat, i just pick and choose it depends on the beat, barely feat but when i do yk its elite, just like my catalog even unreleased, no my shit won’t be soft just like some sleet, tearing up the game bitch like i’m malik, if you see me at the game i’m in a private sweet
hook: bitch we on the grind, said a hundred times, gonna be a legend so my shit won’t decline, like your fucking card set that up by design, in the field calling plays like i’m danny dimes, better stay behind, don’t intertwine, end you in a few seconds like a fucking vine, don’t be asking for the smoke get it then you whine, calculated in a beef like i’m using sine, at the party i’ll recline, bitches do lines, how you gonna stop me when white boy on the rise, say my shit not be hitting gotta check your eyes, and go check your pants cause they gotta be some lies
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