lirik lagu chip - hustle hard
[chip]
same old sh-t
just a different day
same n-gga’s hatin
just in different ways
my sister getting big
she’s into gucci shoes
i buy her what she wants
so guess what i’mma do
[hook]
hustle, hustle, hustle hard
hustle, hustle, hustle hard
hustle, hustle, hustle hard
hustle, hustle, hustle hard
okay, i just paid off my taxes
my god it was a madness
80g’s on clothes receipts, i swear down i ain’t actin
i made half a mil at 17
made my whole hood talk about me
20 now i’m in a suite, i can’t hear no talk about me
ar and we rule sh-t, sammy still got a full clip
rumours of me getting taxed
mums life its all bullsh-t
im tired of all these wash n-gga’s
why ya on me if ya got figures?
couple friends with them dirty pigs
and i turned it into them wash figures
in the west end, straight wiling
hennesey so im smiling
i know i look like im slippin
but i got friend beside on violence
and i got a lightie on me, she’s winding
she probably got a good boyfriend
the morale of the story is, keep your chick out the west end
and its chip n-gga im insane
i get ink, cause i like the pain
i spent £6 on my white tee, but like 30g’s on my chain
so i don’t give a f-ck what you b-tch boys think
ill spend your pinky cost, on my drink
so you can hate me, and i can hate you
but you can’t deny im doing my thing
n-gga i go in, n-gga i go wild
i go blind, i go ray charles
and i could send you n-ggas my stylist
but you still wouldn’t have my style
euros account, let that one pile
tell a ex girlfriend, look at me now
i don’t bare back none of these chicks
so if i was them, i would keep my child
yeah the life i live is so crazy
shouts to my unborn babies (sorry)
lord forgive me i sin, but i will never let satan take me
it ain’t my fault the girls rate me
book me, f-ck me, pay me
n-gga my swag is hearable, i bet a blind chick would date me
i ain’t bragging dog its just life, i get more dislikes than likes
i drop every gyal for every gyal now every gyals on a hype
keep your b-tch, she ain’t my type
dog i say and get what i like
man i git b-tter pecans in mia (phooom)
and i’m on a fly
yeah i get made love in that t
still shoppin with green
haircuts in finsbury park, i know real g’s in h-rnsey
keep holy water in the basin
got a god son called mason
bible at my bedside, with bullet pages for satan
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