Barack Adama
Respect My Grind
[Verse 1: Chamillionaire]
See your rhyme's the kinda rhyme, that's flooded with punch lines
My rhyme's the kinda rhyme, that make n***as punch nine
One what dum-dum, the police gotta come down
And keep the kids from crying, too late cause you done dying
Raps dying without me, I need to breathe some breath in it
It seems like it's a shortage, of real n***as left in it
Ain't no if's and's or but's, somebody is deaf in it
The game got a lot of rappers, but I am the best in it n***a move

[Chorus]
Fake n***as step aside, cause them real n***as coming through
You can try to stop my shine, but there is nothing you can do-oo
We ready, we ready for you
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind
I can make it to the top, when they was saying I would lose
Now I got my middle finger, talking back to you
I done paid my dues, to get me respect where it's due
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind

[Verse 2: Chamillionaire]
Gotta grind, gotta stay on my grind
If your scheme ain't bout green, your transaction get declined
If your scheme ain't bout green, I forgot it nevermind
If your team ain't my team, get in line and get behind
I'm next up in line, headed up there with Jay-Z and them
Big E and Em-inem, and I can't even swim
But ain't too many n***as I know, that go as deep as them
And me uh-um freestyle, naw I don't need a pen
It's me your kin, the one major labels love to call
Got Chamillionaire on the line did you get him, naw
Yep I kept with it, the rap book I slept with it
Said my mixtapes was cool, and my album had no depth in it
N***as criticizing Koopa, now Koopa addressing it
Stop crying playa, go get a dress and go dress in it
Or put your money against my uppercut punch, and let's win it
Your right eye swollen shut, and your left get left squinted Koopa
[Chorus]
Fake n***as step aside, cause them real n***as coming through
You can try to stop my shine, but there is nothing you can do-oo
We ready, we ready for you
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind
I can make it to the top, when they was saying I would lose
Now I got my middle finger, talking back to you
I done paid my dues, to get me respect where it's due
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind

[Verse 3: Paul Wall]
I'm the people's champ, you the people's chump
You talking BFI trash, but you still a punk
I'm on the road to success, and I'm ready to drive
I'm in the fast lane, you still trying to catch a ride
I heard it through the grapevine, you been talking down
But you be riding my dick, soon as I come around
I know you see me shining, I know it hurts your heart
I'm one hundred percent, I've been it from the start
I always kept it real, you always kept it fake
I always showed love, you always showed hate
You think the game owe you, but you ain't got a clue
If you be good to the game, it'll be good to you
You claiming that you real, but you like a piece of glass
I can see through your lies, you falling off fast
You trying to sprint as fast as you can, the whole race
But you'd be better off, keeping at a steady pace stay in ya place
[Chorus]
Fake n***as step aside, cause them real n***as coming through
You can try to stop my shine, but there is nothing you can do-oo
We ready, we ready for you
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind
I can make it to the top, when they was saying I would lose
Now I got my middle finger, talking back to you
I done paid my dues, to get me respect where it's due
So respect my hustle my struggle, my mind and my grind