Grit and Gold (Explicit)

Verse 1

Born in the land of palm trees and G-code,

Where the sun don't set, and the hustle don't fold.

City of angels, but the demons take flight,

When the block turns dark under neon lights.

From the Bay to LA, we all grind the same,

Putting work in the streets, earning stripes in the game.

Every alley got a story, every corner got pain,

And the blood on the sidewalk’s just part of the rain.

Hook

Grit and gold, that’s the West Coast way,

We shine in the struggle, make diamonds from the clay.

From the ghettos to the hills, it’s all intertwined,

This is Westside living with the hustle in mind.

Verse 2

The waves crash hard, but the vibe stays cool,

In this ruthless paradise, we don’t play by the rules.

Tatted up arms, rocking Chucks with pride,

Every step's a statement on this Westside ride.

The game ain't forgiving, but the glory’s real,

Every scar on my soul is a badge I feel.