Mind of a Hustler lyrics

[Intro: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
(Zone 6 n*gga, Pyrex whipper)
(Pyrex)
Yeah

[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave ’em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain’t got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n*ggas switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n*gga, we used to eat scraps

[Interlude: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Ha
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Pablo Juan, n*gga, Hoodrich sh*t
I'm really from the hood, like (Hеart of a killer, the mind of a hustler)
I ain't had nothing, n*gga, I was poor, n*gga
Got nothing еlse to say about that sh*t, n*gga
(Ayy, Pyrex, this motherf*cker hard as f*ck, slime)
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?
Hood
[Verse 1: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
I used to have to walk to Dunkin' Donuts and catch ’em ’fore they throw that sh*t in the trash
I ain't no junkie, ain’t smoking my profit, scale it and bag it and get it off fast
Used to go to the marathon in the A1 just to have to get it all, n*gga, straight glass
Trap it on McAfee by 2nd Ave
Ran up a milli', still ready to crash
Tank on E, but I still got that gas
n*ggas know me, I ain't even gotta brag
Sosa my dog, that's the plug out Iraq
Money Power Respect, throw away in the money rag
Came up from sh*t, how the f*ck can I lose?
Thought I was pus*y, you got me confused
Really, I can’t wait 'til somebody try me, I bet he'll be dead if he don't make the news
Got dope in the car, I just put it on cruise
Can't walk a mile in my shoes
Double C, standing in Candler Crossing
They bring all that money like David Ruffin
I was trapped out the 'partments, you rapping and bluffing
You must be stupid, don't tell me you love me
Deuce in the cream, when I mix it, it's bubbly
Serve out the window, McDonald's, they loving it

[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave 'em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain't got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n*ggas switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n*gga, we used to eat scraps
[Verse 2: CEO Trayle]
Ayy, this an Audemars, this not a Rolex
Uh, trap like I need Bowflex, finna go hit that store next
Uh, send a whole blitz
Ayy, can't teach an old dog new tricks
n*ggas just 'round 'cause they saw me lit
n*ggas wasn't around, no cheese in my grits
With some all black 1s, I kick
Hating-ass n*gga, you saw my sh*t
Ayy, n*gga, I don't need that b*tch
n*gga, ain't nothing to ball that b*tch
Ayy, n*gga, I seen that switch
n*gga, I damn near called that sh*t
Ayy, love these Percs, can't call it quits
Can't love no ho, that's all she get
Uh, n*gga might cop four bricks
Uh, n*gga might cop a stick
My b*tch keep tryna start arguments
I'm at the backdoor, foe, you started this
Shoot my shot, I hardly miss
Put titties on that, take off the di*k
Ayy, she suck the di*k, she saw my wrist
Ayy, she tried to kiss, I jawed the b*tch
Ain't no rapper, I ain't making no diss
Well-known stepper, I step on sh*t
Well-known flexer, I flex up, b*tch
Four of Wockhardt, go get my kid
Yeah, yeah, pouring up drank, I sip
Said, "Free 'Blo," with it on my hip
Ayy, you know I'm eating Pringles, stack my chips
I was mixing all this designer drip
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave 'em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain't got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n*ggas switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n*gga, we used to eat scraps

[Outro: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?
Fill up the savings, put stones in my bust
Don't trust myself, why the f*ck would I trust?