Lyrics

Verse 1

Yo, I’m from the D, where the blocks stay gritty,

Caddies on dubs cruisin' through the Motor City.

Paint drippin' wet like the Belle Isle breeze,

Wrist froze colder than a Michigan freeze.

Hustle in my veins, yeah, I’m built like that,

Chasin' cheddar every day, gotta stack that pack.

Ain't no cap, dawg, I was raised in the struggle,

Turned my pain into muscle, now my chips do the shuffle.

Chorus

This Detroit grind, man, it’s all I know,

From the 8 Mile line to the downtown glow.

Keep the game tight, yeah, we move real low,

While the speakers in the trunk let the bassline blow.

Verse 2

Big whip rollin’, cruisin’ down the block,

Old heads posted up, still watchin' the clock.

Every dollar counts, gotta get it for real,

Hustlin’ hard just to cop that meal.

Pockets growin' slow, but I’m steady on the grind,

Keep my crew solid, leave the fake ones behind.

D-town pride, yeah, it’s tatted in my soul,

We shine through the struggle, turn the pain into gold.

Outro

Yeah, it’s Motor City made, hustle in my genes,

From the red bricks to the riverside scenes.

Keep your head on a swivel, that’s just how we play,

And if you ain’t from the D, better stay in your lane.

Chorus

This Detroit grind, man, it’s all I know,

From the 8 Mile line to the downtown glow.

Keep the game tight, yeah, we move real low,

While the speakers in the trunk let the bassline blow.

Verse 2

Big whip rollin’, cruisin’ down the block,

Old heads posted up, still watchin' the clock.

Every dollar counts, gotta get it for real,

Hustlin’ hard just to cop that meal.

Pockets growin' slow, but I’m steady on the grind,

Keep my crew solid, leave the fake ones behind.

D-town pride, yeah, it’s tatted in my soul,

We shine through the struggle, turn the pain into gold.