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hustle gang - ya digg lyrics
[produced by tommy brown]
[intro: t.i.]
leggo
[hook: shad da god & t.i]
yeah, you know i’m ridin’ with that sig (hol’ up!)
come through in that benz playin’ big (i say hol’ up!)
and we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
ain’t sh-t chu could motherf-ckin’ tell us (turn it)
man i heard a fake one talkin’ sl1ck bout the kid (hol’ up!)
tell the hoe we playin’ with the paper like a kid
bankroll they neck, that’s the sh-t they just throat
hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
yeah, that’s the motherf-ckin’ kid, b-tch
you know i got my city, b-tch
i say, you could get your wig split
[verse 1: travi$ scott]
go on and let me dim the white light, burn the white candles
get a white girl out her white dress, down to white sandals (ya dig?)
the only stars in astrology that’s making profits
prophets on the rocket, like my city, we don’t need the comet
and all that blasé, blasé, all that nonce, nonce
my girl look like a nicki rihanna, minaj, grande yonce
there he go on a pedestal, you need better dude
i told her that abc not abc, no public school they want to steel
still pushing packs, pushing on some mule sh-t
i’m over nightin’ and lbs relaxed on some cool sh-t
when the sun go down we jump around we off the sh-ts
don’t under digg, the kids
leggo
[hook: shad da god & t.i]
yeah, you know i’m ridin’ with that 6 (hol’ up!)
come through in that benz playin’ big (i say hol’ up!)
and we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
ain’t sh-t chu could motherf-ckin’ tell us (turn it)
man i heard a fake one talkin’ sl1ck bout the kid (hol’ up!)
tell the hoe we playin’ with the paper like a kid
bankroll they neck, that’s the sh-t they just throat
hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
yeah, that’s the motherf-ckin’ kid, b-tch
you know i got my city, b-tch
i say, you could get your wig split
[verse: spodee]
yeah its the motherf-ckin’ kid b-tch
you know i got my sig b-tch
you can get your wig split
my shoes from italy f-ck you ain’t feelin’ me
cause issues we ain’t livin’ it makin’ mills for my children
steady stackin’ my bills without hillary
in the streets a n-gga plugged in like auxiliary
god willing i keep k!lling all these tracks and sh-t
i been selling crack so long i got calluses
wrapping mid up that just fell of a big truck
ridin’ with sticks cause i got a name i’m establishin’
blunt filled wit’ green, pockets filled with cabbage
word to ? we some young money savages
i just called two hoes and they gon’ blow me like a clarinet
[hook: shad da god & t.i]
yeah, you know i’m ridin’ with that sig (hol’ up!)
come through in that benz playin’ big (i say hol’ up!)
and we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
ain’t sh-t chu could motherf-ckin’ tell us (turn it)
man i heard a fake one talkin’ sl1ck bout the kid (hol’ up!)
tell the hoe we playin’ with the paper like a kid
bankroll they neck, that’s the sh-t they just throat
hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
yeah, that’s the motherf-ckin’ kid, b-tch
you know i got my city, b-tch
i say, you could get your wig split
[verse : t.i.]
designer, on my momma
fresh sh-t like obama, i probably get that going wind
see all the brick we just be blowin’ them
hustle gang
listen up if i say a duck or pull a truck
don’t ask something, .45 hook your lil -ss up
and guess what
if i see a fl1ck or pull a tree
but don’t be starin’ at me
man i’m a g, thats some sh-t today you rarely see
i been trappin’ since all i day was a prayer and a key
man, ou get caught i bet you sing like a parakeet
they say the proof is in the pudding, you don’t see it, ain’t lookin’
man i-i-i’m certified, spread from cali to brooklyn
in the chi, i’m providing all the hoods with sugar
i’m super solid, pure gangster til my casket
respect or we gon’ blast for that
[hook: shad da god & t.i]
yeah, you know i’m ridin’ with that sig (hol’ up!)
come through in that benz playin’ big (i say hol’ up!)
and we blow that gas, you can smell her (turn it)
ain’t sh-t chu could motherf-ckin’ tell us (turn it)
man i heard a fake one talkin’ sl1ck bout the kid (hol’ up!)
tell the hoe we playin’ with the paper like a kid
bankroll they neck, that’s the sh-t they just throat
hit the green lights, everybody on go (and you know it man)
yeah, that’s the motherf-ckin’ kid, b-tch
you know i got my city, b-tch
i say, you could get your wig split
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