Gutta Butta
Hittin lil Yam, love the way she taste
Better get yo girl for I take yo place
I'm the street's work, homie set the date
Ran another mill, beat another case
Independent now know I gotta grind
Homie no I can't do no 9 to 5
Too many things, try to keep in mind
Yes I want it all, even call it mine
Ima do this shit for dat streets
Ima do this shit for dat crew
Ima do it for the people that be tryin but never really can fuckin do
Some day I'll make time
Gotta make the sunshine
Man I gotta relax think back
No cap we really had hard times
That gutta butta wasn't cuttin
Nigga be in a out of jail
Sending letters to my momma
Don't know what the fuck to tell
How the fuck these niggas gonna bit the hand
Plotted on the fam better get your manz
Rolling all this paper had no plan
Working hard now getting the advice
When I starting out had no vision
Street know a nigga make a choice
Sitting in luxury with no limits
Now youngbull got a voice
Celebrating all the hard times
First show yea my mom cryin
I was tripped out no food no buying ant lyin
Some days rent was late
Had no beard to give
Now when I see my people nigga askin how you live
I paid my own way like Slim now homie acting really shady
Whipping bens out the parking lot
Bitch like that Mercedes
And I'm fuckin on a daily
I know people gonna hate
But you know I gotta motivate
Lot of rappers don't educate
Hard times and the grind can't really can't be understood
Until you actually been there trapped in the hood
Stay focused keep to yourself trust no man
Cause in the end they all have out they hands
No friends
Houston bitchs be fine but ant wanna do shit with a nigga
Reminiscing about the past while this hoe head game helpin pull the trigger (Pull the trigger)
Ima do this shit for dat streets
Ima do this shit for dat crew
Ima do it for the people that be tryin but never really can fuckin do
Some day I'll make time
Gotta make the sunshine
Man I gotta relax think back
No cap we really had hard times
That gutta butta wasn't cuttin
Nigga be in a out of jail
Sending letters to my momma
Don't know what the fuck to tell
How the fuck these niggas gonna bit the hand
Plotted on the fam better get your manz
Rolling all this paper had no plan
Working hard now getting the advice
Better get yo girl for I take yo place
I'm the street's work, homie set the date
Ran another mill, beat another case
Independent now know I gotta grind
Homie no I can't do no 9 to 5
Too many things, try to keep in mind
Yes I want it all, even call it mine
Ima do this shit for dat streets
Ima do this shit for dat crew
Ima do it for the people that be tryin but never really can fuckin do
Some day I'll make time
Gotta make the sunshine
Man I gotta relax think back
No cap we really had hard times
That gutta butta wasn't cuttin
Nigga be in a out of jail
Sending letters to my momma
Don't know what the fuck to tell
How the fuck these niggas gonna bit the hand
Plotted on the fam better get your manz
Rolling all this paper had no plan
Working hard now getting the advice
When I starting out had no vision
Street know a nigga make a choice
Sitting in luxury with no limits
Now youngbull got a voice
Celebrating all the hard times
First show yea my mom cryin
I was tripped out no food no buying ant lyin
Some days rent was late
Had no beard to give
Now when I see my people nigga askin how you live
I paid my own way like Slim now homie acting really shady
Whipping bens out the parking lot
Bitch like that Mercedes
And I'm fuckin on a daily
I know people gonna hate
But you know I gotta motivate
Lot of rappers don't educate
Hard times and the grind can't really can't be understood
Until you actually been there trapped in the hood
Stay focused keep to yourself trust no man
Cause in the end they all have out they hands
No friends
Houston bitchs be fine but ant wanna do shit with a nigga
Reminiscing about the past while this hoe head game helpin pull the trigger (Pull the trigger)
Ima do this shit for dat streets
Ima do this shit for dat crew
Ima do it for the people that be tryin but never really can fuckin do
Some day I'll make time
Gotta make the sunshine
Man I gotta relax think back
No cap we really had hard times
That gutta butta wasn't cuttin
Nigga be in a out of jail
Sending letters to my momma
Don't know what the fuck to tell
How the fuck these niggas gonna bit the hand
Plotted on the fam better get your manz
Rolling all this paper had no plan
Working hard now getting the advice
Credits
Writer(s): Tishaun Zeno
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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