Hustle Lyrics - Youngbloodz

Yea, youngbloodz, kill the mic, track boys 

Why'all ain't ready for this shit, 

Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea 

OK we back and bumping, youngbloodz that's us for sure 

From left to right we rocking and kicking down every door 

Watch out now get 'em shawty, oh that's them you-way boys 

We set it off don't get twist it still out making noise 

Big pistol that's my word, ice cold is so superb 

3 hits 4 shots I'm on it, running you up off the curb 

So bring your A-game, we bringing hella pain 

You disrespect my sip ill pop your back like pootytank 

So if your ready run it, we got that shit that will 

I'm from Atlanta steady bouncing blowing off the grill 

Cause in the trunk its bumping, we going all night long 

So grab a cup 'cause ain't no way in hell you goin home 

[Chorus] 

I won't get my crime around 

I hustle baby 

I stay down every time no day 

I hustle baby 

From the track or the trap fo sand 

I hustle baby 

No day I hustle baby no day gotta hustle baby 

I won't get my crime around 

I hustle baby 

I stay down every time no day 

I hustle baby 

From the track or the trap for sand 

I hustle baby 

No day I hustle baby no day gotta hustle baby 

I'm a crime time hustler man, I tried to tell 'em 

My crew 'cause its the ex-convict, convicted fellon 

Banana clips bazmellons of all these stitches telling 

The bitches of bazballers and secrets of shotcallers 

Of better rounds of scopping he said lue a-town to Oakland 

Niggas praying and hoping, they don't get caught with dope and 

Out a catin' and a cripping in Chicago they folking 

Down south we got 36 oles traping and focus 

This is no hocus pocus, play the game like locus 

Players vibe up and whittin' I'm the third cosmoses 

[Chorus] 

My pimping is old school, and they Chevy with bleak shoes 

Tip tops and flip flops, Adidas and suede pumas 

Who nigga fo like why'all they never going change that 

They slang goin where I hang and my bitches they who'd-a-rest 

And we all drink do-duces of dat go for 5 

We'll put that hot heat like between your eyes 

And I keep it under the seat in the summer they sweating me 

Coming down your street with beat sitting on some chesly feet 

Outta town in that's gold rims, for shawty be serving them 

Everytime my Chevy stop my rims they still spin 

A-town for life why'all we never going change that 

Still roll with them dope boys on the bow with them J's at 

[Chorus: Repeats]