Damn Tibi, Mobtrap, Konky - Hustle 4 Life paroles de (lyrics)

Michael Emeka Rosenfeld

[Damn Tibi, Mobtrap, Konky - Hustle 4 Life paroles de lyrics]

Yeah, we're not the same
I'm makin' my own money sellin' gas
Everybody in the hood knows
That I'm movin' fast
Bought some new clothes
Got my outfit pretty clean
All my homies hit me up "big dog
Wanna sip some lean?"
All these diamonds shining on my neck
I can make you blind
I love money more than bitches, yeah
They always on my mind
You know I get up by myself
Every time when I'm down

And I see you by your faces
And y'all crawl like them serpents
You been backstabbin' your friends
For some cheese you fucking rat
Bitch you bеtter not be steppin' on my block
You bеtter stop
Acting like a girl when you see some blood
Got betrayed so many times
Who the fuck should I trust
If the popo show up
I will disappear like dust
Came from struggle
Gotta make by myself some cash
I ain't gonna wait for others
Just to let me smash

I gotta keep that strap close
Versaci got a Glock with a mad blow
We trappin' out the crib, we got mad hoes
We countin' up them numbers stacking mad doe
Free all of my niggas out the zoo coup
I didn't beat the case but I run loose
Cops on my back but I still cruise
I stay rollin' swishers just like Snoop
Promethazine we stay sippin'
Kilo's we stay flippin'
Iced out we stay dripping
Bitch niggas we stay killin'
I’ve been on my block since I was 15
Steady sellin' dope for my big dream
I kick it with my bro's and the whole team
Op run up on us then we blast him
All them skinny hoes I don't fuck with them
Shorty gotta be thick I don't fuck with thin
You workin' 9-5 but I never did
I'm steady gettin' cash like I've always been
I gotta keep that strap close
Versace got a Glock with a mad blow
We trappin' out the crib, we got mad hoes
We countin' up them numbers stacking mad doe

Keep that 40 tucked in my jeans
And I ride with the stick so the
Bitch gon' talk or it bust
I fuck with yo' hoe, she a baddie
I'm pullin' them beans
And I ride with the stick on
I ride with the choppa
I ride with my youngins
I pour it for all of my sippaz
And that bitch gonna ride she a seeker
And the choppa gon' spray at your window
And the choppa light up the way
So you better get ready for bust yeah
And I fuck with the people
That never got shit
But still make out the mud yeah
I rock with my youngins, I rock with the G's
We stay at the crib and still makin' a hit
Rollin the kush when I'm back with my bros
And stay with a clip cuz
They like to play tough
Phone tapped in cuz they dealin' with shit
Wired up homies we don't talk to 'em now
They wired, their phones they be tapped
But still tryin' to make all these bands
Get fuck off my face we not the same
I buss up a hole while you bussin' a nut
Never saw a plug in their life
But still talkin' the shit
That they slangin' around in the hood
Broke bitch don't try me
Broke bitch don't try me nah

Yeah, we're not the same
I'm makin' my own money sellin' gas
Everybody in the hood knows
That I'm movin' fast
Bought some new clothes
Got my outfit pretty clean
All my homies hit me up "big dog
Wanna sip some lean?"
All these diamonds shining on my neck
I can make you blind
I love money more than bitches, yeah
They always on my mind
You know I get up by myself
Every time when I'm down

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