Dedrick Little - Hustle To Get It

V1,
I keep a hot barrel burning, 17, wig splitters.
You, can ask who is it, bitch, it’s that, nigga.
Built, to get sqrilla, you should, get familiar.
Chill, ride with me killa, I’m real, don’t get no realer.
Sit back, focus your eyes, I’ll illustrate my words.
I’ll leave, you simple minded, thinking, where he get that nerve.
I cop a, half a brick of boy, 1000 grams, of girl.
Plus, I’ll yank the chamber back, & watch a boy turn girl.
J cole, cold world, pour up, call earl.
Stand up you thorough, get up, I dare you.
I’ll take care if you, big holes, will tear threw.
Plastic bag, toe tag you, gangster Rag, your flag flew.
I am, that dude, cock back, get at you.
Clap back, get at you, back back, attack you.
Act black, get tattooed, brain matter, on statues.
Blood splatter, hit my shoes, big bullets, impact you.

V2
The attorneys, on retainer, never met the stranger.
But he is reason, I tote this, big black, banger.
Best life, living, I take it, I give it.
Don’t, make me lose religion, get to dumping, with Percision.
Anything, to make the, brick move, the chef, is here.
Scrape the pot, put the extras here.
I’ll front the weight, just have that bag, ain’t no lectures here.
Money, will protect you here, naw nigga.
Coke dealer, dope flipper, gorillas.
gone get cha, Your niggas, hoe nigga.
so he’s, the foe nigga, Oppositions in position.
this big fully automatic, gotta, whole lotta ammunition.
They was coming for the yayo, last transmission.
You can tell his daddy, that he sleeps, with the fishes.
Scales all fishy, I ain’t playing with these bitches.
Said the scales of fifty, I ain’t playing with these bitches.

V3
I will, hot water, wip it, Dry pot, cook it.
Doubled up, a half a birdie, & that mutha fucka took it.
I am, D-boy, I hustle, harder than you.
I be pitching pigeons, swear to god, I do.
Bag it up, in zip locks, swear to god, I do.
Let that big clip rock, swear to god, I do.
Get this fucking strip lock, swear to god, I do.
Married to the block, oh my god, I do.
Showed that bitch love, look what I, bought you.
Big body, hit the curb, when I, caught you.
Letting, all them niggas stand on you, & I want answers too.
why these, niggas, Romancing you.
I risk my life, they taking chances too, spending bands on you.
Block bleeder, I’m the leader, See you at the re-up.
30 rounds, no safety features.
new block, but the bitch, a dick teaser.

Written by:
DEDRICK LITTLE

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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