See a **** like me gonna get money till I get rich

Ride with a couple hundred G's in the biscuit

Stay down for whatever

Forever hustle with my misfit homes

And soon you gon' see

Just how crunk this shit be once we get rich

Till then it's back to hustling with my misfits

Deep on the creep

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

I keep a big old **** beater heater

It's in the trunk of my four-door and my two-seater

Make all you skeeter-skeeter

Keep up and grab the ball back

Just like I'm Derek Jeter

I know you wanna fuck my hoe

But you too scared to meet her

See, you ain't got enough bread to even start to treat her

The way a pimp did, and in the bed I'm even sweeter

I hustle, I got more Franklins in me than Aretha

If I had Oprah Winfrey, I would marry her and keep her

I spit as much knowledge as preachers and teachers

Just as long as the message reach us, we all fill up the bleachers

I'm the MJG, I get in yo' shit

I ain't tryna run your clique that be your friend so quick

Come on, where my money?

Let me hit the stage

Fuck them long interviews, just give us the front page

Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust

Them lyrics that make the people say he got nuts

See a **** like me gonna get money till I get rich

Ride with a couple hundred G's in the biscuit

Stay down for whatever

Forever hustle with my misfit homes

And soon you gon' see

Just how crunk this shit be once we get rich

Till then it's back to hustling with my misfits

Deep on the creep

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

Sticky weed kickin' in

Big Ball steppin' in

Straight flying when I hustle

That's how I represent

Bounce, if you feelin' what I'm spittin' up in yo' ear hole

I've been rockin' mics since I was seventeen years old

Smokin' up, drinkin' up, kickin' dust, and fuckin' up

Everybody want a piece and we ain't got enough for us

Yeah, I touched a brick or two

Pounds, I done smoked a few

Got my bread and didn't do

What the fuck I was supposed to do

Money blind players, turns 'em into evil spirits

**** die tryna live out these old rap lyrics

I try to give it to 'em just how it come to me

Real and unedited, not how it be on TV

Be myself and don't be what them haters want me to be

Take the good, the bad, hit my knees, set me free

Make the bad good

Put that on my leather and wood

Cinderella with my fells deep off in the hood

See a **** like me gonna get money till I get rich

Ride with a couple hundred G's in the biscuit

Stay down for whatever

Forever hustle with my misfit homes

And soon you gon' see

Just how crunk this shit be once we get rich

Till then it's back to hustling with my misfits

Deep on the creep

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

You need to stop stickin' your hand out

And tryna fold it

Turn around a broom handle and try to hold it

There's plenty dirt to be swept

And leaves to be raked

Now you need to leave from my face

Take heed the mistake

That you just made, thinkin' a player could get played

Thinking that a rapper could get wrapped and phone tapped

My whole life I learned the hard way to spot liars

And it seems like it's usually the ones that's right by ya

FIRE!

Jumpin' up out the tip my pistols spittin' up

Fuck me? Watch my gun

Skeet like they bustin' nuts

'Cept when it hit your cheek

You burn, then you split the cheek

Then come out the back of your head, now you're just a memory

Graphic how I got it illustrated, rated triple x

**** wanna be the king, I don't give a fuck who's best

Just watch your mouth talkin' down in the South

I'ma let my nuts hang and start punchin' clowns out

See a **** like me gonna get money till I get rich

Ride with a couple hundred G's in the biscuit

Stay down for whatever

Forever hustle with my misfit homes

And soon you gon' see

Just how crunk this shit be once we get rich

Till then it's back to hustling with my misfits

Deep on the creep

Fifty songs tucked under the prone

Fifty songs tucked under the prone