Jim Jones, Trav - Love of the Hustle lyrics

Heatmakerz, Crack Music
For the love of the hustle
(Niggas love the hustle) yeah, yeah, yeah

Niggas levelin' up when they know
The level is us if I buy a watch I'll bust
It or even bezel it up
They know my jeweler got a hell of a touch
Uh
Make movies and even my trailers is tough, uh
Saw the boys when they was trollin' the truck
I got opps, thought they was real
But they was tellin' on us, uh
Don't give a fuck, I got that celibate touch
Made a couple mill off weed
When they was mailin' it, uh
Rolls Royce truck with the suicide doors
She was five-ten, without the shoes
Five-four
Penthouse eatin' meals on high floors
My man took a hit, couple mill in a dry war
Eyeball, John Wall, couple
Killers, they on-call, i
Matter of fact, scratch that
They probably wouldn't catch that
Probably couldn't see like where the
Ruler got his patch at
Bust it all down, where, where the latch at?
All my idols, they was false prophets
Talk about the plug, we ran off on the socket
Shit, to start talkin' war
We went and bought some rockets
Let me chill here

They stay solo as shit
It ain't in no way sweet
Death gotta be free, 'cause livin'
It ain't cheap for the love of the hustle
Do anything just to eat
Brick and a half got you
Feelin' like you rich
Ayy, ten toes to the G-code
Even then, stay loyal to your people
For the love of the hustle
Brick to the face like you Deebo
Now you got to gather all them people
Now you duckin' from the RICO
For the love of the hustle ten toes
For the love of the hustle

Shit, millionaire minded
I sould kill 'em with kindness
Instead I'm blowin' smoke as I'm
Fillin' my nine clip
Had to tell a ho that I'm still in my prime
Bitch
Upstairs rollin' up, eatin' dinner at Prime
Bitch i will still choke a bitch out
Then give her the Heimlich
It's always gang-gang
I need my niggas to shine because
We're stuck up in the realest of time
Yeah, I wore a camo band
Richard Mille for the time
Two hundred bucks for a watch
Niggas would kill for the time
Every time I speak to my lawyer
I'm gettin' billed for the time, so
Tell 'em make it sweet
Every word got a price on it
Should we cop furs in his and hers
And what they write on 'em? Maybach Benz
It never ends with the light on it
Off-white hoodie that say off-white on it
Grandma plae, I put the beige off-white on it
Drive by blocks that I played all night on it

They stay solo as shit
It ain't in no way sweet
Death gotta be free, 'cause livin'
It ain't cheap for the love of the hustle
Do anything just to eat
Brick and a half got you
Feelin' like you rich
Ayy, ten toes to the G-code
Even then, stay loyal to your people
For the love of the hustle
Brick to the face like you Deebo
Now you got to gather all them people
Now you duckin' from the RICO
For the love of the hustle
Ten toes to the G-code
For the love of the hustle