I'm Joe Grind Songtext
von Giggs

(Hey, it was you, uh, last night, yeah?) Yeah
(You give me 1000, uh, for give, uh, but me)
She′s on her grind
(This for, pay or, money buy, but me no have any right now)
I'm on the grind
Spare

This the beats that Boomblast gives me
It feels like it′s polish
Trumpets and shit, makes me feel like I'm royal (prince)
You should feel this beat (yeah)
Joe Grind's on fire, you can feel my heat (I′m so hot)
I′m laying that fire on the beats
When you see me, you can light a spliff (yeah)
Put your other gloves on, 'cause this will burn your mitts (mitts)
You should put your hands together ′cause this one is a hit (hit)


See the way that I spit? (Yeah)
It's from hundreds of mistakes
Now I know what not to do, and what I shouldn′t say (say)
Now I know, I can blow it, in many different ways (ways)
Now I kinda figured out, what image to portray (whoo)
Yeah, I might be on the beat (beat), but I'm more into making P′s (P's)
I shot tens to make 100s tryna turn it into G's (G′s)
If I′m turning Q's, half a nine, tryna think of keys (keys)
Blood, give me them ingredients, I′m tryna make some cheese (cheese)

You can tell I'm on the (grind)
Every day I′m on the (grind)
On road, I'm on the (grind)
I′m Joe motherfucking (Grind)
You can tell that you feel Joe
And the way that I rhyme, you can tell I'm from Spare No

You can tell I'm on the (grind)
Every day I′m on the (grind)
On road, I′m on the (grind)
I'm Joe motherfucking (Grind)
You can tell that you feel Joe
And the way that I rhyme, you can tell I′m from Spare No


I'm the nicest sup′m (nicest)
I'm like all-purpose, I′m a spiciest sup'm (yeah)
But still I got three days to make seven tracks (tracks)
No bullshit, he only wants the nicest stuff (the nicest stuff)
So then I call Darkman and Bloomblast
To get me some tough beats that I can give the hard rass
Rate down some hard bars, master the flows
So if I start a track at ten, I start next one by half past

Now I'm on the hard block, I laced me with tracks (tracks)
On road shotting green, and in the booth I′m spitting crack (crack)
You might catch me in Unit ten sipping on some yak (yak)
Laying down some hard bars, or selling a couple bags (yeah)
Now I′m on the hard block, I laced me with tracks (tracks)
On road shotting green, and in the booth I'm spitting crack (crack)
You might catch me in Unit ten sipping on some yak (yak)
Laying down some hard bars, or selling a couple bags (yeah)

You can tell I′m on the (grind)
Every day I'm on the (grind)
On road, I′m on the (grind)
I'm Joe motherfucking (Grind)
You can tell that you feel Joe
And the way that I rhyme, you can tell I′m from Spare No

You can tell I'm on the (grind)
Every day I'm on the (grind)
On road, I′m on the (grind)
I′m Joe motherfucking (Grind)
You can tell that you feel Joe
And the way that I rhyme, you can tell I'm from Spare No