Lyrics
Uh let's go
Ayo, Statik, you a fool for this shit uh
My nigga Paul hit me and said it's a go
The Butcher coming, nigga ah
Before this rap shit I was used to cash flow
Diplomatic like I been introduced to Castro
Every line I spit shit that
They knew was factual
My next contract gon' be
Like a Houston Astros' i'm a hustler
My pursuit for the loot was natural
Sold dope, weed, and coke
I even grew tobacco
Having a nigga locked down
Eating soups and mackerel
But you wouldn't know a brick if
I threw one past you, uh
I multitask when I'm cookin' the dope (Uh)
With one arm in a pot
And foot on they throats
Niggas talk about cash
When I look and they broke
(Where the money at?)
You put thesе rap niggas up
Against Butch' and they choke (Uh)
I gave my littlе niggas clips and
They still on they posts
Every bar like a lesson they
Put in they notes (Got that?)
I'm a king, I'm a lion, but good as the goat
Steppin' on the work, I have
My foot on the snow, look
I was broke, now I flex hard
I'ma get mine and Rick Hyde will
Pick up where I left off
All the critics gon' wonder how I crept off
Retire, startin' my own line of Pyrex jars
Look niggas know my status abroad
Never challenge the squad
Leave bullet holes in your passenger door
(Brr) get a house to put a fortune
In the mattress and walls
You niggas not fuckin' with
Me, Statik and Paul, let's go
The quickest way to go broke is do nothin'
That's why I'm 25-8, I's scutchin'
Multiple hustles I'm jugglin'
Number crunchin'
Tryna stack up more bread than a luncheon
I'm on a path tryin'
To avoid self-destruction
I got a lot of guns
But got even more gumption
What's the function? Big bro got
Jammed up at customs
Plus he spent more money than
He made, boy, he buggin', say
I'd rather work too hard than not hard enough
Laziness I rebuff, on point, off the cuff
On my hustle, ease my mind off of puff
Head on a swivel for sick
Fucks gone off the dust
Got that from Mike Rap', what's up, bro?
My grind is near the peak like Puffco
On the way to Buffalo, keep that on the hush
Though i'm out here tryna get this
Scrooge McDuck dough, but look, yo
One man's treasure is
Another someone's scraps
Like King Tut, let's keep it under wraps
Airtight bubble wrap, on the way perhaps
They tryna hold me down like Jon
"Bones" Jones on the mat
Fake friends come and go
Quicker than a prostitute
But I don't want a fiction
I just want a lot, salute
The hate is obsolete because
The truth is absolute hard work a attribute
For that there's no substitute
You know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
There's no substitute for hard work
You got to be there every day
No missed days, no tardies
You got to be present if you
Want that A+ type of paper, you feel me?
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Lyrics © Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
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