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hustle gang - poppin for some lyrics

(verse: dro)
black kush reefer, smoking on cali boy
i’m a west side n-gga like danny boy
flip a brick, sell a brick, cop a brick house
f-ck a trick, keep my d-ck in yo b-tch mouth
pull up boy, ridin shawty, keep it real pimpin
zone 3, these streets, i am still in em
ridin jean denim, polo jean denim
when your broad spread her legs, i am up in er
i’m a whack spinner, i’m a jack tinter
and this b-tch you f-ckin, boy, i hit her last winter
ball cr-p dinners, i’m a lap winner
cookin dope, sellin dope, get yo -ss in er

(hook: dro)
i got cash holdin my weed, my b-tch poppin for some
got these shooters all in my right, you know they’ll offer for some
we need corn down in my clique, you know we rockin for some
all these b-tches on my d-ck, you know i’m poppin for some
they know i’m poppin for some
she know i’m poppin for some
he know i’m poppin for some
they know i’m poppin for some

(verse: yung booke)
part like watch out bro, you 2 lyin
blood n-gga, get out the booth flyin
can’t even wear all these looks no more
where it happens all i might shoot straight
got a foreign b-tch, coppers on me
parker fly me, don’t no crib
count cab fair to get slow with
kick this sh-t with even broke lips
like hold up, hold up, hold up
i mean brother smoking my reefer
in the hood, servin that franky
smoking on a long blunt of that keisha
if i was rappin when i was in school coulda probably f-cked my teacher
now my name poppin like krisko
i’m hustle gang with my rich girl

(bridge)
rollie got them hamer diamonds, can’t tell my wrist
i’m a real n-gga, been seen with one and i’m too legit
i replace soldiers, don’t chase soldiers like f-ck that b-tch
wear 2 chains but know ludacris and i’ve been preppin like know the deal

(hook: dro)

(verse: b.o.b)
good weed and knock chomper
yo b-tch is a c-ck monster
i bang that p-ssy like a rock drummmer
and she up and down like stock numbers
no doubt about it, she throwin that
that medicinal, i’m blowin that
i got signed to 17 years old
i said f-ck school, i ain’t goin back
see dro, it’s my n-gga
don’t make us go gorillas
man i swear to god these n-ggas flawed
everything white gold, that silver man
we treat mary jane like strippers
we just pour them shots of tequila
and they know we poppin for a reason man
‘cause this hustle gang, we up in here

(hook: dro)

- hustle gang lyrics

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