On the Grind P.O.D. (Ft. Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. & Sick Jacken)

[Intro: Sick Jacken]
Psycho Realm, P.O.D., Boo-Yaa Tribe. What? What?

[Verse 1: Sick Jacken]
My soul is payable on death, the flow I'm layin here is deaf
Mics come with a teflon vest, my words wreck
I'm a Psycho, ill with the voco-loco
Heard a sick pedo noco noco by coasta logo
Gas mask with the gangsta strollo
Got a piece that will match the chrome D's on my low-low
Total chaos, you think that I'm a rapper your way off
I'm a killer that be murderin these tracks, so stay off
Serial rhymin, convicted of driving and beat the hymen
And breaking the hymen on ears that never heard of the line that I'm in
The danger zone is common, city blocks got the demons mobbin
I'm a con-artist, starvin, strong armin
Jason's guitarin, Traa's bass while Wuv is bombin
Bring the streets to the booth, It's my therapy from mental scarring
From the hell when I dwelled in an L.A. projects

[Chorus]
Ever since the day the streets be callin
Ooo what it takes to keep from fallin
All I know is how to hustle man, so I'll stay on it
Somewhere in the world the sun is shining
Down on my face there's someone trying
Trying to grind it out these streets we live
And I'm not dying