Jim Jones

Love Of The Hustle
Heatmakerz, Crack Music For the love of the hustle (Niggas love the hustle) Yeah, yeah, yeah Niggas levelin' up when they know the level is us If I buy a watch I'll bust it or even bezel it up They know my jeweler got a hell of a touch, uh Make movies and even my trailers is tough, uh Saw the boys when they was trollin' the truck I got opps, thought they was real, but they was tellin' on us, uh Don't give a fuck, I got that celibate touch Made a couple mill off weed when they was mailin' it, uh Rolls Royce truck with the suicide doors She was five-ten, without the shoes, five-four Penthouse eatin' meals on high floors My man took a hit, couple mill in a dry war Eyeball, John Wall, couple killers, they on-call, I Matter of fact, scratch that They probably wouldn't catch that Probably couldn't see like where the ruler got his patch at Bust it all down, where, where the latch at? All my idols, they was false prophets Talk about the plug, we ran off on the socket Shit, to start talkin' war, we went and bought some rockets Let me chill here Songtexte They stay solo as shit, it ain't in no way sweet Death gotta be free, 'cause livin', it ain't cheap For the love of the hustle, do anything just to eat Brick and a half got you feelin' like you rich Ayy, ten toes to the G-code Even then, stay loyal to your people For the love of the hustle Brick to the face like you Deebo Now you got to gather all them people Now you duckin' from the RICO For the love of the hustle Ten toes For the love of the hustle Shit, millionaire minded, I sould kill 'em with kindness Instead I'm blowin' smoke as I'm fillin' my nine clip Had to tell a ho that I'm still in my prime, bitch Upstairs rollin' up, eatin' dinner at Prime, bitch I will still choke a bitch out then give her the Heimlich It's always gang-gang, I need my niggas to shine because We're stuck up in the realest of time Yeah, I wore a camo band, Richard Mille for the time Two hundred bucks for a watch, niggas would kill for the time Every time I speak to my lawyer I'm gettin' billed for the time, so Tell 'em make it sweet, every word got a price on it Should we cop furs in his and hers, and what they write on 'em? Maybach Benz, it never ends with the light on it Off-white hoodie that say off-white on it Grandma plae, I put the beige off-white on it Drive by blocks that I played all night on it They stay solo as shit, it ain't in no way sweet Death gotta be free, 'cause livin', it ain't cheap For the love of the hustle, do anything just to eat Brick and a half got you feelin' like you rich Ayy, ten toes to the G-code Even then, stay loyal to your people For the love of the hustle Brick to the face like you Deebo Now you got to gather all them people Now you duckin' from the RICO For the love of the hustle Ten toes to the G-code For the love of the hustle Aus Songtexte Mania