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[Intro: Ray Luv] Yiddo, Yiddo, ha ha ha ha, this yo' nigga Young Ray Luv Back in yo' motherfucking face, you know? Ha ha ha ha, the Lynk Crew, no more trouble, just trying to bubble And this goes out to my son - Baby IE, wassup boy? I was a hustlin-ass nigga straight lovin' the game Always meant to be a playa put the Luv in my name Who put the hustle in this youngster? I guess my daddy's to blame Cause if it made skrilla, there wasn't no shame in his game Another young playa, caught up in the fortune and fame Nigga when I'm gone, will they still remember my name? Straight soldier, stayed at this here 'till it's over Old folks laughing, telling my daddy that I'm never sober Why don't you understand I'm just trying to feed my baby? I'm going crazy, none of y'all fools can fade me You trying to save me? Sometimes I feel the love is gone There I go, out the door to get my hustle on Dreams of platinum, rap after rap I'm writing back to back While I hustle stack for stack I'm caught in the cross, the game twist me into trouble Forever hustle, I'mma struggle 'till I bubble Gotta make my money double Struggle out of trouble, all good I'mma hustle till I bubble SongtexteGotta make my money triple Hennessy not ripple (Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple) BG turned OG, gone off that oldie Went from Zenith's and Vogue's to Lexus I's and gold D's In love with the game, will I fold G's? Ain't no tears just beer poured for my homies A ghetto star, every hood in church know me Haters want me but trick them suckers long as the set got love for me I'm Lynked up to the fullest So you better think nine times before you come at me with some bullshit The Feds is crackin' down like bullwhips And niggas' gunnin' for me so when I smoke I keep a full clip I just wanna get richer So when you look at success I'm the nigga you seeing in the picture The B-I-G E-Double-D-I-E Spaghetti You know me already, nigga with the long fetti Gangbangin' but never see me with no rag No time to lag, stuffin' hundreds into Hefty bags The local motors wanna' battle I'm gone holler "trump", cause inflation Move the organization to Seattle Call my up-North connection He say, "I got it sewed up in Seattle Even judges in the next election" I have a ticket to a Samsonite Ready to get it on, fool I'm gone on the next flight A young nigga out to rumble Got to get my money on, nigga watch my bubble Gotta make my money double Struggle out of trouble, all good I'mma hustle till I bubble Gotta make my money triple Hennessy not ripple (Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple) [Young Dre:] My chances gettin' slim in the wind as I'm hustlin' Straight automatic phone call sidin' in traffic so I'm dumpin' Cause' all I really wanted was a piece of the ree-zor I bust so heavy in this geed-ame, I can't ever skeezers out on the grind Heard 'em motivated poppilin' bubblin' major Just 19 years old I'm freezing cold fiending for paper You ain't know I'm a young BG from the 'Tay soakin' game from my older cousin Convinced to grind 'till I'm ballin, you thought I wasn't Trying to keep my focus with the daily bomb, better get the Loc'ses For the chronic got more straight keeps my calm Flick of the wrist, we get the dopest Coca-Cola So do the gypsy-twister hocus-pocus A1-Yola Tear in to any fool that's trying to stop my hustle It'll be a 211-187 Young Dre is destined to bubble Gotta make my money double Struggle out of trouble, all good I'mma hustle till I bubble Gotta make my money triple Hennessy not ripple (Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple) [Ray Luv:] So much fetti I'm feeling hunted Every epsiode I be lookin' for my face on the Most Wanted Feel like my life was written by Donald Gould A kingpin on the run, nigga, like Jesse Owens Never knowin' which one of these suckers calling themselves a menace Gonna be pumped off that spinach wanna put a hot-one in a Young nigga, my grandmomma call me sinner Look, granny, I just want to make you proud of me and be a winner Get out of this shit before I'm fade out, doin' bad Go legit before I'm layed out, on the slab Who say we can't be hard, and still smart? Who say I gotta go out to the pen or the county morgue? Gotta find a way out, my little homies they be rappin' Me and my mail, let's see what we can make happen Get in it to win it and pop like Russel Simmons before I finish A big baller, going out to the book of Guiness But these playa-haters known to be snitches and traitors Fool you can't fade us, fuckin' with Big Eddie yes the greatest Little homies keep writing I'm gonna put five grand on a lawyer Big Eddie Records got a business license Rumor has it that my young niggas out there jackin' Oh, you ain't know? I signed them soldiers now we goin' platinum I found my route up out the trouble Out to get my money on, nigga watch my bubble Gotta make my money double Struggle out of trouble, all good I'mma hustle till I bubble Gotta make my money triple Hennessy not ripple (Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple) [Outro:] For the 1-99-5, straight trying to bubble Aus Songtexte Mania