lirik lagu baby smoove - hustler muzic
[intro]
really mo’ like wayne when he made hustler musik tho’
boy you think i give a f~ck?
meech
boy you think i give a f~
[verse]
boy you think i give a f~ck what n~ggas say when i ain’t there?
boy don’t shoot the house, wait ’til he come outside, we know he there
i got b~tches callin’ me, who i ain’t talk to in a year
pints fallin’ in my lap like: “come sip me, n~gga here”
she tryna argue, b~tch argue wit’ yo’self
he ain’t really got no money, he can’t pass~on wealth
60k, all 50’s, hold my amiri’s like a belt
and she treat me like a king so she’ll never need help
40 racks on a cuban and 15 on my other one
once this other pendant done, i’ma buy another one
h~ll nah this ain’t my first house, i bought another one
swear to god i didn’t try, she jus’ tryna gimme some
7~8 digits, sh~t that’s what i need in my account
if you been through what i been through you wouldn’t believe i made it out
my bestfriend in the feds, he hang up before count
he been locked up for years but still call like he out
pourin’ 4’s don’t matter when you got seals put up
i’ma hit the gas if i see red and blues when i look up
jail ain’t got no commissary, can’t even do a cook~up
say whatever on the ‘net but when i’m there he won’t even look up
dropped 10 ‘bows off to johnny cause i know he gon’ move ’em
cause he the typa’ n~gga get me sauce when he approve ’em
h~ll nah you can’t hang, i’m a winner, you a loser
sometimes i get mad, and get drugs, and just abuse ’em
no cap, i got 6 n~ggas wit’ me, that’s 12 straps
fishtailin’ round corners, strap fallin’ off my lap
stopped uploadin’, but i still got it on, no cap
fake jewelry, and n~ggas hittin’ drank, they tapped
i’m rich; i don’t like broke b~tches, i like models
this a pint, but i ain’t bring it out, i filled up my bottle
stare at me, i swear somebody wit’ me’ll start sendin’ hollow’s
120 on the coupe, i’m in the trenches dodgin’ potholes
franchise 40’s, blue hunnid’s, blue~red
got this new celine jacket, lil’ buddy got a tag
paranoid, window down, he wanna race, i’m bouta blast
i’m in n~ggas dream car ridin’ wit’ a hunnid’ cash
560, boy yo 550 old
they talkin’ like he a gangsta’ but that boy told
i might sip a million pint’s but i’ll never touch my nose
n~ggas filled out an app’ but they not built for the road
[outro]
i got real dogsh~t, i ain’t never need a loan
i had~
i had real dogsh~t back when i was doin’ phones
he was f~cked up, he was really sittin’ at home
300~ mmmmmm~
300 for these shorts, i get high and put ’em on
meech
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