Nappy Roots
Nappy Roots - Watermelon, Chicken & Gritz songtekst
Je score:
Got a cheese sandwich on the hunnid spoke Pork rinds and a soda pop I told a cop I'd beat it, lost At 3 a.m., they told up "stop" We got it real real, to the top A G like 30 feet away from the county line The weed flyin, the golden smilin Wip it nice an then they sign Man, fuck How denyin' my damn luck, This ain't no find if we get stuck I'm doin time Don't get messy with the Prezzy A quarter pound ain't worth the rizzy Drunk as hell, then hurl the fifth Back an forth we swerve and dip Pumpkin pie Bust a cop I'll be damned, they took my crop Shook 'em wit that lead foot an hit about a hunid fi (105) Miles per hour In the country wit the pudin, good an chunky 40 acre, mule an donkey, hell with that, just get the money Got to be that early bird To grind an get what I deserve Quick to burn an an can't mesquite it Lord I need it fore the third Serve anybody? Hell naw, got to be for sure Standin on the standard curb Days begin to bend an blurred Homegrown bacon Yeah, I'm havin the wage Tendency of a 50 hit, when its about gettin payed Came along with a ragin theif hidin under the shade An momma won't quit buggin me about my heathenish ways Now I've wasted more tears then my mouth cold beer Gotta be a Man on these rolls, overcomin my fears Body too quick to gaze, with they head on bob Get dee, life is foul but the dirt is hard, yeah! (hustla) Chorus: If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla) And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla) If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla) And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla) Aint no tenth, 35% Dent in my hub caps, sticks in my dove sacks, fifth till I cuts that Look, my baby husband got to eat some mo Dough is what Im reachin fo Money low, need some mo Hustlin these streets alone Now everyday I work, 75 A&R tellin me lies Fore I die, wanna drive big bodies wit bubbla die Now peep the otha side, ova them hills Rich dude that own them mills Tha candy sto is open for sale These junkies gone smoke it to death Money, hos, clothes, auto-mobiles, gold grills no scrill, no deal, fifth weel, big grill wood grain sturnweel, weigh it up, be still lay it on the fish scales I'm assed out in the back seat of the Pont-i-ac Got a cup full of Con-i-ac Quarter out of hunny sacks Tell me get my money back Still broke, feel like I ain't got shit to live fo So much to kill fo C'mon, this niggas transition, ain't no use in sittin round wishin But my hands ichin, poppa need a new transmition Get my grind on, hustle that bustle to make my grip in any time zone Bundle that bubble, lets make it split We buy: peices, ounces, keys, weed, Xs, Zs nigga, please, anything you ask fo, we got what you need To these college degrees we applyin to streets, cause I'm a (hustla) Chorus: If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla) And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla) If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla) And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla) [spoken] Hustla. Carry many meanings.. Whether you a crook in them books whether you usin your mind or usin a 9 bootleg alcohol, or runnin the ball you must get it in. You was born a hustla an you a die a hustla. Prophit, hit 'em wit it [/spoken] I pause and refine a mighty floss, et cetera For life in a ballance, of it Lyin an shinin a beddy ro I gotta be worse than a hust fa mine (I mean) If I don't crush it then Imma bust the 9 I tell ya dog, get on the blocks in over-alls, its over y'all Wit all dem boys stay hot, said if we blow out finna go a billion time Ya know me dog, neva be a oldie dog My state of mind's on the grind like a eighths of raw Dont go trickin 'em all, Imma have you bust for all my yiggas Live for the days so we can hustle 'em all, aww! What? What? What? Aw! Aww!