Lyrics:

Like
Like nigga ain't braggin' 'bout the shit
You know I do what I do, you heard me?
Niggas speculate 'bout what I do
What about you?
Lights, camera, steady, shawty
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and talk hustle
Only way you know my face if you bought somethin'
And then the clip squeeze off and go to poppin' in the clutch
I got it in the bottom and it probably gettin' flushed
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and talk hustle
Only way you know my face if you bought somethin'
And then the clip squeeze off and go to poppin' in the clutch
I got it in the bottom and it probably gettin' flushed
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and sell crack
Julius Styles in the match for like twelve stacks
I'll break a nigga face if he get out of line
Business ain't to be witnessed so get out of mine
My mind on the grind like pen out the paper
Big dog still tryna give out a favor
Sick of living with rats who benefited in trap
Missile leave a nigga feelin' he gotta get it with action
Last nigga sayin' that he wrestle with cops
Got a .45 caliber shot, better lay still
My BG's grip apes that'll break steel
Hit you from your ankle to your face, gotta stay still
I'm in the mix, survival with guns
Put away for rainy days and retirement funds
Other than your mind stayin' focused, you grind, favor
Stack a little bit then you shine later
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and talk hustle
Only way you know my face if you bought somethin'
And then the clip squeeze off and go to poppin' in the clutch
I got it in the bottom and it probably gettin' flushed
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and talk hustle
Only way you know my face if you bought somethin'
And then the clip squeeze off and go to poppin' in the clutch
I got it in the bottom and it probably gettin' flushed
Cross season, '07 had to wait on weight
Drug traffic like a traffic light, stay on brakes
CJ don't play, flip, you know the case on gates
The K gon' spray and leave you like JFK
Sick 'em, never polite, I bite 'em in the face
Green light, you got the right to put the lighters in they face
Ain't no fighters in this place, bunch of liars where you stay
Not an eye, ain't another nigga flyer, Mr. Yates
Where I'm supposed to be, silver kush chokin' me
Sittin' in the match countin' stacks on the sofa
My house in the clear, ocean under the pier
My O.B. on a leer, overseas in career
Houston, we got a problem, TV you gotta watch 'em
No, TV giant, he go for stacks, you gotta watch him
Push him, get him off of me, don't know how to talk to me
Hotel room suites, my bitch livin' off of me
See me, I eat, sleep, shit, and talk hustle
Only way you know my face if you bought somethin'
And then the clip squeeze off and go to poppin' in the clutch
I got it in the bottom and it probably gettin' flushed