Hustle

I be rolling a Dutch
Bad bitch I fuck when I want
You putting your nose in her butt
His fingers going to make him real Tough
Don't worry
Them bullet going to eat them for Lunch

Balling like Giannis I need me a Buck
I'm Icey
But I don't need a stick or a puck
She ate me for breakfast
You kissed her for lunch
When you get money
Them bitches going to fuck
If it's a wood then we stuffing a Blunt

It's reeking I'm starting to smell like a skunk
If it's a problem B popping the Trunk
She say I'm her man bitch
Naw bitch you drunk
Hot boy summer we running it up
Gone of the liquor
I don't need a cup
Straight to the head
We drink bottles for lunch
Them bitches want us

Why

Cuz we gone have all the fun
If it's a problem
Then we ain't for none
I know some niggas
Spray heaters for fun
I'm okay for now
But I Trip off the drugs
Zipping his lip
He don't know when to hush
Watch where you stepping
We up in the club

Open his melon
My niggas two stepping
You rolling up mid
I'm smoking on pressure

I steady be running to digits
I got legs then you know
I'm going to get IT
I'm never going to sit on my ass
I tell all my niggas go get it

Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it

Back in the building them turkeys they coming
I Feel like Nick Cannon
That chopper be drumming
I'm in the Field and I ain't do no Running
Them blues in my pocket I'm thumbing

Stomping him out
Boy my shoes always bloody
She say Q too pretty
But shit can get ugly
Rolling up musty
That mud in my stomach
I think I'm shit
Man just look how I'm dumping

I'm the one that they going to call
For the bussing
I Stay in my bag
And I'm not talking luggage
Stop all that faking
He not going to up it
You know GMT
We'll buss it In public

We got them birds
And we not talking raven
I'm Getting it fast
Like my paper Jamaican
He can't hear the punch
Yea we know he just hating
Never a bitch
Always money I'm chasing

Niggas just talking
Don't be with the beef
How I jumped off the porch
Now running the streets
I'm up in college
But still with the beef
I be riding with metal
It's keeping the peace

Stop talking in raps
Keep that beef in the streets
Niggas be capping
That Trackhawk was leased

Bullets clean him up
I be sweeping the streets
Got a glock with a switch
It's up under the seat

Pouring a cup of that shit
Leave you dizzy
We smoke like a chimney
No cap and no kizzy
Shawty she with us
Aye 9 bring the Whitney
You already know
I be rolling the sticky

Put down them pistols
We toting them semis
I just bought a hemi
Mix sprite with the remy
Know that we tipsy
White runtz
Call em Brittany
My diamonds be pissy
I'm rocking Da Vinci

I steady be running to digits
I got legs then you know
I'm going to get it
I'm neva going to sit on my ass
I tell all my niggas go get it

Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it
Go get it



Credits
Writer(s): Qadiir Wajd
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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