I Luv It Yeah It's the GANG We hustlin' I'm ready to hustle Fresh out the blocc boy movin' up and no Gotta strech it out boy I'm tryna get dough I'm Hustlin I'm Hustlin Just bought a 100 pounds in the hour it was sold City lookin' dry boy I gotta get mo I'm Hustlin I'm Hustlin I Know I make it look easy, but this shit hard Gotta learn to plant ya feet young and take that charge Little homie facin' life, he beat that charge Smit the bird on the lawyer, that's 18 large Trap shit ain't a game everybody can't do it It's like a bad bitch everybody want screw it Numbers low I just wait for the drought Hit niggas in the head 15 for a ounce You can't do it Imma teach you how to count My numbers never off my nigga I got clout Dough boy fresh see some shit you can't pronounce Got rubber band money east side out the bounds Wake up! hustlers we don't sleep On our grind all day so we seldomly eat Niggas talkin all day so we seldomly speak Boys hungry in the street and you look like meat Double hustle these days you either trap or you rap Heard you around the holidays so I got my scraps And I Hope you got yours, flossing to get you guilt Cause the renegades come destroy whatever you built Look you niggas hella bummy so you hustlin' wrong 12 hundred for the sneaks I be hustlin' strong Watch ya bitch take a peak heard her sang my song Break down the whole thang watch ya bitch get gone Can't leave me alone, I'm feelin' myself In my goddamn zone and nuts under my belt It's up on the shelf, I Don't need no help Better off takin the chrome and killin yourself Birds drive downsouth for Georgia for the summer Reminiscing on the days when I used to drive a honda Now we back to back in them europeans Me and Scrapp, two gats nothin' like see me Game time he gone chocke like Willie Beamen I See the pressure he got deamons on the side Bustin' out the highway you gotta take me alive I Hope you catch my vibes, are you catch vibes? Heard heaven got a ghetto Imma live in the sky Nigga take mine never boy, I'm willin to die Got rich over pies my nigga I can't quit Spend my money hella fast cause this shit gone quick Beat em all with garbage bags I'm the black saint nick All my niggas doin' good bitch take you pick Say she like a nigga swag want taste my dick Blue rag left pocket, he bangs crips Bitch I'm never fallin off I got a hell of a grip, I don't slip Swag out of the roof Mama raised a good man, Got stamina and juice Call the truce, you don't want these problems Dress in all black 4.4 Revolver Dumpin at your hat hell yeah I got em From the shoot out to the studio Ask the lord why he had to let my nigga Cooli go They say the good die young And I'm a hell of a good nigga so I keep my gun I Don't run, I'm a standup nigga Lookin death in the eye, Down the barrel of the trigga nigga |