Rap Hustlin’ lyrics

[Intro]
(MIA JAY C)
(KCG, boy, you killin' 'em)

[Verse 1: CashClick 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 di*k 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 killers 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 hella 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 pus*y 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)