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lud foe - hustle in me lyrics
[intro]
kid wonder, you made this beat? d-mn
skrrt, skrrt, yeah
out west 290 sh-t, b-tch
you know how i’m rockin’, n-gga
ysn, young street n-gga
get your guns up, get your funds up
you on that opp sh-t, get mop stick, b-tch
boochie gang, ayy
[chorus]
i was born with that hustle in me, b-tch, i’ma run me up a check
i put pressure on they neck and i ain’t lettin’ up yet
thought this b-tch was ’bout to die on me, i shouldn’t have gave her x
got a felon in my car, ridin’ round with the tec
hit the club shinin’ so hard, check out my baguette
red b-tch 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 n-gga from the ‘jects
[verse 1]
b-tch up off the bar
i’m so motherf-cking drunk, i can’t find my car
just bought some cartier frames, cost me two stacks
and two bad b-tches with me and they both stacked
my exhaust spittin’ fire
i sn-tched the motor out the 458 spyder
i stepped up in the gas, and it got my car excited
you lookin’ for your b-tch, 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 -ss if you a buyer
we pat you down at the front door in case you wired, b-tch
[chorus]
i was born with that hustle in me, b-tch, i’ma run me up a check
i put pressure on they neck and i ain’t lettin’ up yet
thought this b-tch was ’bout to die on me, i shouldn’t have gave her x
got a felon in my car, ridin’ round with the tec
hit the club shinin’ so hard, check out my baguette
red b-tch 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 n-gga from the ‘jects
[verse 2]
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 sh-t wasn’t even hard
i been ballin’ for a long time, mark mcgwire
your b-tch tryna put her buns on my oscar mayer
and right now i’m so hot i could start a fire
get to scr-ppin’ in the club, you’s a motherf-ckin’ liar
mix givenchy with the gucci sh-t that make up my attire
make you wonder how them forgis fit on them little bitty tires
better come with my deposit ‘fore you put me on your flyer
and if you lookin’ for that work, then n-gga i’ll be your supplier
[chorus]
i was born with that hustle in me, b-tch, i’ma run me up a check
i put pressure on they neck and i ain’t lettin’ up yet
thought this b-tch was ’bout to die on me, i shouldn’t have gave her x
got a felon in my car, ridin’ round with the tec
hit the club shinin’ so hard, check out my baguette
red b-tch 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 n-gga from the ‘jects
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