Side Hustle

A bouncy, self-deprecating anthem for anyone chasing a dream after clocking out, this track turns the grind itself into the hook. The narrator wakes before the sun, puts in a forty-hour week, then logs another forty-five hours behind the scenes on music, comparing the effort to a skateboard trick and an X Games obsession. The chorus insists the hustle isn't about the money or the sum, and brushes off people who don't get it with a shrug and a "get up and get it." Concrete details keep it grounded: black coffee with no cream, sugar-free snacks, a day job that pays enough to keep the lights on. There's a turn near the end where the focus shifts from output to perspective — haters chasing paper fade like vapor, while the songwriter savors time with the Creator who painted his nature, and admits the fear of nobody buying in is real but refuses to bite. The closing verse lands on gratitude rather than ambition, thankful for the day job and for a life full of hip-hop, even without the flip-flop of hobby and career.