paroles de chanson Hustlers - Intricate E

Alright E

Playing all the tricks in my bag
I'm a finesser
Everybody say I'm hard worker
And a hustler
Gotta get this bread and stack this bag
To the next one
See the things I watch in my life
I'm a checker
Get him in his place
Yea stop him just for nothing
Ready to lose everything
I'm playing on my function
Black out on my birthday party
Brother stop his guessing
Always looking down on me
Let's see who do it the next one

See you on the next one

Imma see you on the next one
Yea yea
Block

Blocking oh my lock in lean
Hurten soldier robbing feins
Never coming back
So why we speak on it
My mind in peace
Bro what you told me
Opp is dead so show me
Trynna get a payment with no proof
You so funny
In pieces
Breathing in
Gasping
Oh he chocking
Hit this shi with fire in it
Method of the coping
Pyramids is what we build
Destroy me cause you trynna kill
Messed up in his head
So he raised like jackal
Look a prey in his eyes
Break him out his shackles
World is covered in them lies
I wish I never knew it
Miss it when them days was young
And it was less shootings
Always bombing other country's
The Wrongs one's who be loosing

This Chapo on the beat
I came in the studio like 7 this morning
Ready to kill shit
Lets go

Rolling up exotica feeling just like Chief Keef
Niggas think I fear them
Nigga you should fear me
Walking down the wrong block get you hit with a Big B
(Damn, fuck)
She I mean a Big G, the G stand for the glock I got a .45 and a .23
And you know that we get active
I got shooters in the whip and we ain't on our way to practice
And if we was you wouldn't know, we would have our hoods on and our masks up
Not on the court but in the field, so you cant even call for backup

You boys soft like charmin
Ultra-Soft
You can't fuck with me
Ahh

Pulled up to the studio, in this bitch just me and E
We on a track together like two .40's, clicking-blowing heat
Take the drum out then reload it, bend the corner hit that street
2 times ain't enough, I'm Jordan gon get me a 3-peat
Shoot my shot like my name Steph, I look away know I ain't missing
Trying to get my dick sucked stupid it ain't no kissing
Want me to eat her box she for the streets, who she think she kidding
Treat my nina like my sidepiece, finger-fuck she spinning
You dub me in the past, don't come back around now that I'm winning
Act like I don't know you because I don't, why you can't listen
VVS' on my neck and wrist, watch that shit glisten
Came up from the bottom, now I ball, Grant Hill on the Pistons
Might go and fuck a model in the hills, call me Blake Griffen

My turn
Blame griffin
These wheels is spinning
Whip is tinted
Aston pimping
Pick a model up
And I tell her ain't no fucking kissing
Only thing amusing me
Is a switch glitching
Only thing that's getting to my head
My bro missing
Empty out the gun
Mad my ma choose a good man
Never want to pick my life
So I pick who living
Cut of the resource
Cut off the acting
Your crew full of bitches
Why the fuck you alway cappin'
All the things I said to you
I break you down
Say fuck your rules
Controlling all the people
How you get through your meaning
Had to cut you out of a life
Where you can't really need em