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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jeezy
Jeezy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jay Jenkins
Jay Jenkins
Songwriter
Michael L. Williams II
Michael L. Williams II
Songwriter
Pierre Ramon Slaughter
Pierre Ramon Slaughter
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike WiLL Made-It
Mike WiLL Made-It
Producer
P-Nasty
P-Nasty
Co-Producer
Tony Rey
Tony Rey
Recording Engineer
Stephen Hybicki
Stephen Hybicki
Recording Engineer
Brennen Buckner
Brennen Buckner
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jaycen Joshua
Jaycen Joshua
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Keep it a thoushand man I'll show you what to do with them thousand grams Sent from the kitchen as loud as a thousand pans Soda sit the jacket, she smoke the shit out of cans Sayin' young, you need a plan Gave my lil' nigga some money, "Go buy some pots" "Take my rent and don't fuck around, the stove is hot" Nigga why should I be playin' with your hair, the stove or not Fuck you mean I ain't answerin' my phone? Your numbers blocked If the folks hit the door right now, my heart would stop We in this bitch playin' possum right now, me and the blocks Got a nigga rollin' a spliff right now, he round the block 'Bout to play Bruce Lee on these bitches, karate chop I hope my hustle don't offend nobody I can give a fuck what you think about me You know I like to turn up at the spot Act a fool with the money G told me keep it low-key Now I got the whole house smellin' like smoke And errythin', coulda smoke a thousand new [?] Really no difference between money and the time Thin line do it all cause I can't be broke And nigga there was over right now, you gotta get [?] Nigga you a real one you gotta stay strong Gave my house, my cars, my chain, my fame Nigga give me my skel and my phone All I need it 4 zones Them gossip and they hatin', just a few determination I go crazy with that money, I'm a fuckin' mental patient See I started as a youngin', hustlin' for a club fit Spend your last fifteen hun', you know that club shit You fall off, you get back, can't give up, that shit whack I hear licks on my cell, I have blow in my nails I hear hoes in my jeans, I weigh bees on them beans They had stamps on them things, I rode bread we got [?] Got them birdies in the attic, countin' currency in the basement Aunty said there's somethin' on her silverwear cause she can taste it And I ain't goin' nowhere, you haters gotta face it And if I lose it Lord I'm on nigga, I just need to basics [?] ass hustler, yeah I'm tryna post up Till I can come through in the land, with the dozer Hit it with that H2O, then it froze up Back when they was goin' for the two fo', had it sowed up They pulled me with this nina in this strap it be a felony Hit me with this nina on my lap, I'm livin' heavenly Speed ballin' like this shit a sprint, but this a marathon Phone ringin' all day and night, like a telecom If you a real hustler you gon' get that, he ain't get it If you a real hustler you know how to stay committed Between me and you got tired of sleepin' with them roaches And I been havin' flashback, that's why a nigga focus
Writer(s): Michael Len Williams, Pierre Ramon Slaughter, Jay W. Jenkins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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