This is a song about "Westside grind"

A million nasty things went through my mind

Don't let them capture you, get on ya grind

But i still rap like i'm on my pharoahe monch grind

Panoramic views be tumblin' out my mind

But i still rap like i'm on my pharoahe monch grind

Couple of ‘em dimes, but all my hoes is hard to find

In the crowd, hustle and grind, hustle and grind and when im done,

And we don't stress for nothing i just press the button

Cynical analytical state of mind, on grind, unsigned

I see yesterday i called you names, and played games on yo' mind

Money back on my mind

Would want to confined to this grind

Horder straight trappin', hustle and grind, hustle and grind, my flow is sick

I don't care about your drive unless you talkin' ridin' dick

But i still rap like i'm on my pharoahe monch grind

Baby, you don’t have to try to read my mind