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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nipsey Hussle
Nipsey Hussle
Vocals
Goldie
Goldie
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ermias Asghedom
Ermias Asghedom
Songwriter
Gabrielle Nowee
Gabrielle Nowee
Songwriter
Leroy Williams, Jr.
Leroy Williams, Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mr. Lee
Mr. Lee
Producer

Lyrics

Look, I'm from Westside California, they run up on ya Ask you where you from and check yo' tats under yo' clothin' Hustla, go hard make sure my knot swollen Fuck it, say the wrong hood, bullets explodin' I trust few people these days 'cause that's golden I seen niggas get killed for who they roll with And chose to keep inside they circle Satan sittin' on your sofa Same nigga that shot you was the one you used to smoke with Cold shit, my whole clique notorious You've heard of us, six Os is murderers You still servin' clucks, jealous nigga, you broke as fuck Yo' bitch on my nuts, spillin' Patrón out my cup She can't get enough, buffer me down as I puff on the finest kush They say I be doin' too much, I just do my stuff Yeah, I just do my stuff Hussle, Hussle Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch I got Slauson on my back, Ed Hardy on my hip Weight of the world on my shoulders, gold Rollie on my wrist Neighborhood chucks, blue checkerboard tint Dickies saggin' off my ass, walk with a hoodsta limp Two bricks on my white tee, same color cocaine I ain't talkin' dope, I mean the price of my gold chain All money in, no money out, that was my slogan What I mean by that is stack it up and don't spend no change I started small time, dope game, cocaine Seven grams was thirty rocks, that was my program The block propane, young nigga, no change Shoot-out with no aim, so they know yo' name 'Cause where yo mama paid rent, that was yo' gang So when yo' homeboy bled, that was yo' pain And if y'all both catch a case, you don't say no names That's just the code of the color of my shoe strings Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch Been so many places, seen so many things Niggas stood against tryna chase that cream This ain't livin' This ain't livin', no You thinkin' you gettin' paid, hustlin' every day My homies passin' away, no This ain't livin' (Hustle, nigga) This ain't livin', no Look What happened to the code? Streets all in shambles Niggas powderin' they nose, put the shame to what we stand for They think we on some kill another nigga shit We really on some stay down and diligent The streets is cold, turn innocence to militants Young niggas gangbangin' for the thrill of it Pops was gone, moms was never home But the streets was right there so they took you as they own Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch Blue laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces Big faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch
Writer(s): Leroy Jr. Williams, Ermias Asghedom, Gabrielle N. Nowee Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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