cashclick boog & rio da yung og - rap hustlin' lyrics
[intro]
(mia jay c)
(kcg, boy, you k!llin’ ’em)
[verse 1: cashcl!ck boog]
i just watched my dog turn to a hater, it hurt me
her head good, but her ass small, i’ll pay for the surgery
it’s like i’m racin’ to the cake, get the pape’ in a hurry
let my money make more money for me, i ain’t gotta worry
n+gga disrespect clip, four+nick’ll drop him
it be hard for me to quit the lean, i got sippin’ problems
i don’t got sh+t for groupie b+tches, just d+ck to swallow
ain’t used to have sh+t, now i can count up a million dollars
that’s an awful lot of lean, let me get a swallow
just got word from your b+tch you a pillow talker
in the streets makin’ deals, the labels ain’t got no deals to offеr
they let us in the club with a strap, bro concеaled the mossberg
b+tch, my rollie dancin’
gettin’ back m’s from empire and onlyfans checks
right now i’m in the studio with whites, he like, “you just sayin’ sh+t”
up three hundred racks on the ‘gram, this a huge advance, man
on 680 in back+to+back coupes, that’s just how we playin’ sh+t
my plug say he ain’t got no more juice, i’m ’bout to catch a tantrum
when you hear the engine go vroom, that mean the ‘vette just vanished
mia jay, you a fool, ’cause this beat is slammin’
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
you a cappin’+ass n+gga, where them hundred bands at?
this n+gga really took off runnin’, where my fn at?
if boog put a twenty on his head, i’m addin’ ten with that
really rap, but off a f+ckin’ stream check, i don’t depend on that
this n+gga actin’ like a goon, i got a ten for that
ten milli’, hit the n+gga in his leg, now he can’t feel his back
got me f+cked up, i don’t want nan’ one of my ex+b+tches back
finna drink a whole pint of wockhardt, it’s me and midget mack
it ain’t hard at all to catch an m1, just pull the trigger back
send my b+tch to get this eight of wock’, she brought some liquor back
i know she f+ckin’ with a broke n+gga, she brought swishers back
the baddest b+tch i know hoed me in eighth grade and i remember that
we still at e crib down the street from where the ‘spital at
with a thick heart+shaped booty, it was pillow flat
a n+gga never made da yung og buy his pistol back
one day, my strap came up missin’, that got my n+gga whacked
i just drunk a clean six of red and threw a skittle back
they gave unc’ twelve in the feds, he threw a nickel back
me and boogz came four, four, four, we had a sippin’ match
three switches, two dracs, and one ar, that’s where we chillin’ at
[verse 3: bla$ta]
(bla$ta)
i’m too turnt to talk to you, where the k!llers at?
ho, this gp, no reggie, no “where the pickles at?”
lit a n+gga ‘wood, then left resi where the ceiling at
on the ‘gram, all headshots like the b+tch fat
v10, we can spin, i’m on run flats
me and boog got the city, they ain’t want that
on the west coast, free rio, made the b+tch scream that
huh, every time, i sip wock’, bring that one drink back
my clan hardbodied, n+ggas softer than a beanbag
i was blowin’ gas ‘fore a n+gga had a dreamcast
in the field with them yankees, hardball, you gotta think fast
probably a bandicoot, he’ll motherf+ckin’ crash
dog ain’t on sh+t, know h+lla n+ggas you ran on
thirty with a switch, before you dodge ’em, i’ma ram home
i’m known to blast a n+gga with this cannon if you play it wrong
north n+gga all in michigan with fifty grand on
f+ck they hollerin’? i be spinnin’ like the fan on
this b+tch gon’ blow it on her knees like she prayin’ wrong
i’ma respect the game and put my man on
i think her p+ssy get the wettest when a n+gga bring them bands home
huh, he ain’t stand up, the n+gga ran home
my name hot up in the streets, i left the pan on
slammed a b+tch and her mama, so f+ck the friendzone
and you ain’t score until you brought it to the end zone
[outro]
(i hear you, jay c)
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