Fes Taylor On Grind
[Fes Taylor:]
I said, matter of fact, Cadillac, f..ck an Ac'
You on some Pharrel shit, you wearing trucker hats
And how you fit a stack inside of your tight jeans
Pocket full of green and chain mean, call it ice cream
Sleep all day, party, play the night scene
You front on my niggas, homey that's a nice dream
I mean a nightmare, and we don't fight fair
We'll jump a nigga right out his Nike Air's
The mall crib, sit on the terrace and write there
View of the projects, I spend my life here
Bled on the corner, I take the head of informers
Put 'em on lightpoles, after the dice rolls
Took a one year break, I'm still nice, though
I was buying grams at a '94 price, whoa
Two albums done, bout to throw two mixtapes out
Two days apart, just to break the charts
While you was home waiting for a record deal
I'm in the streets, trapped in, making record deals
So it's easy to me, I just laugh at you niggas
Trying so hard to feel us, steel last
[Chorus x4: Fes Taylor]
Money on my mind (mind)
Money on my mind (mind)
Money on my mind (homey, I'm on my grind
I'm getting paper, nigga, and you a hater, nigga)
