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Nappy Roots
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Hustla
Lyricist:Melvin Adams, Ryan Anthony, James Chambers, William Hughes, Brian Scott, Vito Tisdale
Got a cheese sandwich on the hunnid spoke Pork rinds and a soda pop, I told a cop I'd beat it, lost At 3 a.m., they told up stop, we got it real real, to the top
A G like 30 feet away from the county line The weed flyin', the golden smilin' Wip it nice an then they sign Man, fuck, how denyin' my damn luck This ain't no find if we get stuck I'm doin' time
Don't get messy with the Prezzy A quarter pound ain't worth the rizzy Drunk as hell, then hurl the fifth Back an forth we swerve and dip
Pumpkin' pie, bust a cop I'll be damned, they took my crop Shook 'em wit that lead foot an hit About a 105 miles per hour
In the country wit the pudin', good an chunky 40 acre, mule an donkey, hell with that, just get the money Got to be that early bird to grind an get what I deserve
Quick to burn an an can't mesquite it Lord, I need it fore the third Serve anybody? Hell naw, got to be for sure Standin' on the standard curb, days begin to bend an blurred
Homegrown bacon, yeah, I'm havin' the wage Tendency of a 50 hit, when it's about gettin' payed Came along with a ragin' thief hidin' under the shade An momma won't quit buggin' me about my heathenish ways
Now I've wasted more tears then my mouth cold beer Gotta be a Man on these rolls, overcomin' my fears Body too quick to gaze, with they head on bob Get dee, life is foul but the dirt is hard, yeah
If you play the cards you dealt Then you struggle, got to put in work And I got to be the early bird To grind and get what I deserve
If you play the cards you dealt Then you struggle, got to put in work And I got to be the early bird To grind and get what I deserve
Ain't no tenth, thirty-five percent, dent in my hub caps Sticks in my dove sacks, fifth till I cuts that Look, my baby husband got to eat some mo Dough is what Im reachin' fo, money low, need some mo Hustlin' these streets alone
Now everyday I work, 75, A&R tellin' me lies Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com 'Fore I die, wanna drive big bodies wit' bubbla die Now peep the otha side, ova them hills Rich dude that own them mills Tha candy sto is open for sale These junkies gone smoke it to death
Money, hos, clothes, automobiles, gold grills No scrill, no deal, fifth weel, big grill Wood grain sturnweel, weigh it up, be still Lay it on the fish scales
I'm assed out in the back seat of the Pontiac Got a cup full of Coniac, wuarter out of hunny sacks Tell me, get my money back, still broke Feel like I ain't got shit to live fo, so much to kill fo
C'mon, this niggas transition, ain't no use in sittin' 'round wishin' But my hands ichin', poppa need a new transmition Get my grind on, hustle that bustle To make my grip in any time zone
Bundle that bubble, let's make it split We buy peices, ounces, keys, weed, Xs, Zs, nigga, please Anything you ask fo', we got what you need To these college degrees we applyin' to streets, 'cause I'm a hustla
If you play the cards you dealt Then you struggle, got to put in work And I got to be the early bird To grind and get what I deserve
If you play the cards you dealt Then you struggle, got to put in work And I got to be the early bird To grind and get what I deserve
Hustla carry many meanings Whether you a crook in them books Whether you usin' your mind or usin' a 9 Bootleg alcohol or runnin' the ball, you must get it in You was born a hustla an you a die a hustla Prophit, hit 'em wit' it
I pause and refine a mighty floss, et cetera For life in a balance of it, lyin' an shinin' a beddy ro I gotta be worse than a hust fa mine If I don't crush it then I'mma bust the 9
I tell ya dog, get on the blocks in over-alls, it's over y'all Wit' all dem boys stay hot, said if we blow out finna go a billion time Ya know me dog, neva be a oldie dog My state of mind's on the grind like a eighths of raw
Don't go trickin' 'em all, I'mma have you bust for all my niggas Live for the days so we can hustle 'em all What? What? What?
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