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hustle junkie - babytron lyrics

hustle junkie lyrics
[intro]
so many times i coulda stayed down but got up
b*tch, yeah, (d*mn, machu, why’d you have to do ’em like that?) sh*ttyboyz

[verse]
so many times i coulda stayed down but got up
try something, got some glocks tucked, p*ssy not us
unky in the trap playin d til it’s locked up
forgot what time it is, prolly cuz my watch bust
that is not runtz, put that wood down
you is not tough, why you tryna put your foot down?
d*mn near a milly off the raps, i put the juggs down
paranoid off the perc, clutchin while i look round
23 on me, call this b*tch lebron james
and i got a choppa, let it sing like it’s rod wave
when i’m chillin i just play the joggy off the kanye’s
$1400 loubs like it’s prom day
$3000 outfit, call me andre
$30 eighthy’s you don’t really know how za taste (you don’t know)
poured a two and fell asleep, that’s a pop waste
why the f*ck you got sh*t to say and you ain’t got pape? (what the f*ck)
lookin crazy with your broke ass
lungs bout blacker than a b*tch, i only smoke gas
sh*t talker, think my right pocket bout your whole stash
i’m sick you out here down, lookin so bad
backwood full of yeah, you be smokin naw
got the blueprint to win, but i ain’t coachin y’all (nah)
wake up, lace em up, all i know is ball
i’m talkin track 2, euro*steppin, i ain’t no gasol (euro*steppin)
woke up and dropped six like i hit three jumpers
big bankroll full of blues, you a green thumber
i might throw some pinks in this b*tch to be a sleeve upper
throw them ones away, you been playin em for three summers
moncler bubble vest, hit for fifteen benjies
scat packs, h*llcats, trackhawks, ain’t seen hemis
ocean prime or the eddy v’s i ain’t seen denny’s
hit man on fully swear to god that he ain’t seen semis
buffs on, blowin out os like i’m master roshi
pit stop, food truck, lobster in the macaroni
lil brodie bad as h*ll, f*cked around and crashed the stolie
i’ll send an opp to neptune, got a blaster on me
high as h*ll, floating in that sp*ceship like captain kirk
all your 201s dead, never seen no active work
$8000 cash if you wanna grab a verse
tell a b*tch tryna talk to me win a pageant first
25/8 can’t stop, i’m a hustle junkie
two hunnid clips, if i miss, boy you double lucky
stopping at the trap, finna go and see what’s up with unky
supreme drip, t*shirt cost a couple hundy
you ain’t seen what i seen, did what i did (you haven’t)
you ain’t felt what i felt, feel it in my ribs
grown man money, next year i’m building me a crib (i swear)
where the yeah at? exotic pop chilling in the fridge (yeah)
feeling like i’m him (yeah)
if i hear it’s up, sh*t i’m sitting on the rim
missed all his shots, doggy need to get up in the gym (what?)
.223s hit him in his hat and peel it by his brim
i’m a king, feel like marvin bagley
you can hear the demon in this b*tch when i start the chally
on the road, finna stop and test one of these cars at rally’s
hall of fame deadeye, ain’t no way that you guarding stanley
looking like an ice sculpture, hutch got my kit dancing
won’t stop grinding til i’m chilling in that big mansion
if i call them jack boys, they’ll make your sh*t vanish
don’t make me put the rap down, go back to chip jamming
yeah
(d*mn, machu, why’d you have to do ’em like that?)

- babytron lyrics

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