Payroll Giovanni - Hustlas & Bosses lyrics

rate me

Ft. B-Legit, Big Quis & Clay

(Verse: Payroll Giovanni)

Top down, windows up, flyin' through the ghetto

Right hand on the wheel, the otha on the mellow

I run a tight ship so I got a tight schedule

You know it's bout money every time I say 'hello'

I grew up in the hell watchin' OG's, that's helped

When niggas' all bird, rock bird under pelts

Started off of raze, graduated to coke

Cause in my city if you broke you a practical joke

It ain't shit for me, so I woke up, went out and get money

Trudy runnin' off with a cutie, yo man, (it) can get ugly

When niggas ate they used to leave me with the leftovers

Now I'm tellin' workers only bring the best-over's

You in the throwback Lance, we in the next Rover

Lookin' like a million bucks, tryna stack some millions up

When I was down it took some bad days to do some healin' up

And errtime I see a shoe-box I wanna fill it up

(Hook x2: Clay)

Hustlers, stay on yo grind!

Bosses, let your Rolex shine!

Keep money on yo mind!

And in these streets you betta keep yo 9

(Verse 2: B-Legit)

I be in the club with a loaded gun

WE be gettin' loaded, throwin' hella 1s

A few Rolex-es, but the yellow one

Got Master 44, not the 41

Benz gettin' griller, grippin' nice wood

Sixhunnid break-down, me and Ice Wood

Yo wife would, and yo girlfriend

We prolly count money when the world end

Until then, nigga I'mma run routes

Comin' from the top, we ain't runnin' out

Fuckin' with my dope boy, cashin' out

Fuck her to the morning, then we mashin' out

Catch me on the block like waddup, dawg

The shit I'm smokin' now cost me 44

The shit you smokin' on cost you 44

So holla at a nigga, nigga, let me know!

(Hook x2: Clay)

(verse 3: Big Quis)

Lookin' at my tapes, pray to God to keep me safe

Kush is on my lungs with a gun on my waist

A lotta niggas hate, betta mo' beef than burgers

Next nigga try me, I'mma catch anotha of them murda

When everybody count their pockets, man, that shit is scary

I rep Detroit with 20 on my chest like I'm Berry

I'm lookin' fo' a plug, you lookin' fo' a bitch to marry

Chase cheese or chase rats, nigga, is you Tom and Jerry?

I been through a lot, my niggas hate or is the cops?

Keep gettin' charged of _____(?) right now we so hot

It's me against the world, got me feelin' like I'm Pac

Befo' I drink with some bitch I send some bread to my pops

School of Hard Knots, I wasn't goin' to no institute

When I was broke I lost some friends and a bitch or two

Presidential or the big face, I dunno what to chose

I was gone fo' a minute, now I'm back, pica-boo

(Hook x2: Clay)