Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Hugo P
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Hugo P
Composer
Lyrics
Jayswaarg is the new problem
On God, gat my money on my mind
Stay wuu, jonsing I decline
On my grind, put my life on the line
Stay working, anya m dị na time
Grinding from 9:00 till 9:00
I'm a star, when it's time I go shine
I live the life of a thug, I'm a gangster
Dead **** drop when we ball lifestyle
Push the gas make we trap, fuck the other opps
Zero cap if I frown, ọ dị dangerous
And ị ma nlụkawu m sị ka ọ bụrụ bygone
Cross me, swear to God, you go cry gun
Made in the trenches, I grew up around thugs
All my life I dey grind, nwanne 2-4
7 milli a night, ọ wụ God's work
No cap, we are going in soft work
Yeah, soft work, nwanne, soft work
All my guys na-ebuba, nwanne, God's work
Reminiscing back then, you know show love
I was in the slum working all night up
Only mama came through when I was fucked
She told a **** work hard and spread love
She told a **** don't cap keep your head up
She told a **** just smile, nnwa carry on
Take the pill, hit the mic, nnwa spill pain
Paralyzed when I sleep, nnwa, I feel chains
May be signs not to sleep and make changes
Work hard till m golụ ihe, m sị jide change
Hustle on, mgbuness, mpa, off
Fuck, I'm taking this drugs just to keep a **** up, mpa
For the love of chaa, fear of ileka
Everyday for the grind, nnwa, go harder
On God, gat my money on my mind
Stay wuu, jonsing I decline
On my grind, put my life on the line
Stay working, anya m dị na time
Grinding from 9:00 till 9:00
I'm a star, when it's time I go shine
I live the life of a thug, I'm a gangster
Dead **** drop when we ball lifestyle
Push the gas make we trap, fuck the other opps
Zero cap if I frown, ọ dị dangerous
And ị ma nlụkawu m sị ka ọ bụrụ bygone
Cross me, swear to God, you go cry gun
Made in the trenches, I grew up around thugs
All my life I dey grind, nwanne 2-4
7 milli a night, ọ wụ God's work
No cap, we are going in soft work
Yeah, my heart cold like the winter eve
Sometimes when I be reminiscing then I wonder if there's really any home for a fugitive?
You know people like us are called lunatics
If I call you my blood, you my relative
All my **** dedicated and we getting it
If he hanging with the opp, then he getting hit
I could share my crumbs, so my brothers eat
Tryna live life, get money then fuck bitches
My dawgs winning, it's gang gang, it's thug business
Cash moves, remember the days back in sec school
I was selling dope in the classroom
Always in a bad mood
I was hurt but I kept cool
Swear I never let it get to me (Yeah)
Keep the circle tight, the blunt comes back faster
(Overcrowding ga-eme the ọlọ ọ-cast-ịa?)
Push the gas make we trap, fuck the other opps
Zero cap if I frown, ọ dị dangerous
And ị ma nlụkawu m sị ka ọ bụrụ bygone
Cross me, swear to God, you go cry gun
Made in the trenches, I grew up around thugs
All my life I dey grind, nwanne 2-4
7 milli a night, ọ wụ God's work
No cap, we are going in soft work
Makavelli Records
Extraordinaire
Yeah, soft work, nwanne, soft work
All my guys na-ebuba, nwanne, God's work
Reminiscing back then, you know show love
I was in the slum working all night up
Only mama came through when I was fucked
She told a **** work hard and spread love
She told a **** don't cap keep your head up
She told a **** just smile, nnwa carry on
Written by: Hugo p Hugo P
