Lud Foe - Hustle In Me

Damn Wonder, you made this beat? Maaaan
Skrrt, skrrt, yeah
This is some money shit, bitch
You know how we rockin', nigga
YSN, Young Street Niggas
Gang, gang, gang
Get your guns up, get your funds up
You on that opp shit, get mop stick, bitch
Gang, gang, gang
Boochie Gang

I was born with that hustle in me, bitch, I'ma run me up a check
I put pressure on their neck and I ain't lettin' up yet
Thought this bitch was boutta die on me, I shouldn't gave her X
Got a felon in my car ridin' round with the TEC, bitch
Hit the club shinin' so hard, check out my baguette
Red bitch with a black card, she think I'm impressed
It's addictive buyin' fast cars, when you got a check
Young dope dealin', rich living nigga from the 'jetcs

Bitch I bought the bar
I'm so motherfucking drunk I can't find my car
Just bought some Cartier frames, cost me two stacks
And two bad bitches with me and they both stacked, bitch
My exhaust spittin' fire, I snatched the motor out the 458 Spyder
I stepped up in the gas, and it got my car excited
If you lookin' for your bitch, I just left her at the Hyatt
See my ride past, all the dope boys wanna buy it
I'm in the kitchen whippin', tryna make my future brighter
I'm sellin' dope, I pull up, serve your ass if you a buyer
We pat you down at the front door in case you wired, bitch

I was born with that hustle in me, bitch, I'ma run me up a check
I put pressure on their neck and I ain't lettin' up yet
Thought this bitch was boutta die on me, I shouldn't gave her X
Got a felon in my car ridin' round with the TEC, bitch
Hit the club shinin' so hard, check out my baguette
Red bitch with a black card, she think I'm impressed
It's addictive buyin' fast cars, when you got a check
Young dope dealin', rich living nigga from the 'jetcs

You can smell the OG Kush, soon as I open up the jar
Got the Draco in the car, and it tear you apart
Make me lump under your porch, and go to sleep up in your yard
Heard you diss me on your tape, and that shit wasn't even hard, bitch, bitch
I been ballin' for a long time, Mark McGwire
Your bitch tryna put her buns on my Oscar Mayer
And right now I'm so hot, I could start a fire
Think you scrappin' in the club, you's a motherfuckin' liar
Mix Givenchy with the Gucci shit that make up my attire
Make you wonder how them Forgi's fit in them little bitty tires
Better come with my deposit 'fore you put me on your flyer
And if you lookin' for that work, then nigga, I'll be your supplier, bitch, bitch

I was born with that hustle in me, bitch, I'ma run me up a check
I put pressure on their neck and I ain't lettin' up yet
Thought this bitch was boutta die on me, I shouldn't gave her X
Got a felon in my car ridin' round with the TEC, bitch
Hit the club shinin' so hard, check out my baguette
Red bitch with a black card, she think I'm impressed
It's addictive buyin' fast cars, when you got a check
Young dope dealin', rich living nigga from the 'jetcs

Written by:
Anthony Beecham

Publisher:
Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc.

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