Released: April 1, 2015
Songwriter: Scott Arceneaux Jr. Aristos Petrou Black Smurf
Producer: Budd Dwyer
[Verse 1: Black Smurf]
I went from hunnid to thousand, now I'm plottin' on millions
Like, "Hustle, we gotta get no time lacking with bitches
We stretch it and all the options forever chasing profit
And anyone in the field with paper, you gotta drop it"
I'm talking [?] narc, stitching me up over attechment
For disrespectin' you get tailored, mane, right in front of Reverend
For half a zip, I can catch a touchdown in the Memphis City
If Hustle Family you get surrounded by goons in my city
[Verse 2: RUBY DA CHERRY]
I got a hunger, stomach sounding like some rumblin' thunder
Never going under, light the blunt, and then I start to wonder
Contemplating numbers, bitch, don't wake me from my slumber
Hibernating in the winter, then I kill them in the summer
Fucked your bitch, and then I shunned her
I'm a stunna, number one stunna
Sprayin' choppers out the Hummer, life's an endless bummer
So I count my money in the back, fuck a front-runner
Flush 'em like a poker playing plumber, bitch
[Verse 3: $LICK $LOTH]
Chest tight from the smoke, blowing on a bow
Couldn't tell you my location 'cause the phone's on roam
Nine to your dome, cock it back and squeeze it
In the bushes creepin', repeat it every evening
Suckers claimin' this and that, swear they wouldn't rat
Swear they got the sack, and they swear they toting gats
Bitch, you wack
See this ink on me? Lil boy, it means something
I got a handful of people that'll murk you in public
So come try me, lil bitch
I went from hunnid to thousand, now I'm plottin' on millions
Like, "Hustle, we gotta get no time lacking with bitches
We stretch it and all the options forever chasing profit
And anyone in the field with paper, you gotta drop it"
I'm talking [?] narc, stitching me up over attechment
For disrespectin' you get tailored, mane, right in front of Reverend
For half a zip, I can catch a touchdown in the Memphis City
If Hustle Family you get surrounded by goons in my city
[Verse 2: RUBY DA CHERRY]
I got a hunger, stomach sounding like some rumblin' thunder
Never going under, light the blunt, and then I start to wonder
Contemplating numbers, bitch, don't wake me from my slumber
Hibernating in the winter, then I kill them in the summer
Fucked your bitch, and then I shunned her
I'm a stunna, number one stunna
Sprayin' choppers out the Hummer, life's an endless bummer
So I count my money in the back, fuck a front-runner
Flush 'em like a poker playing plumber, bitch
[Verse 3: $LICK $LOTH]
Chest tight from the smoke, blowing on a bow
Couldn't tell you my location 'cause the phone's on roam
Nine to your dome, cock it back and squeeze it
In the bushes creepin', repeat it every evening
Suckers claimin' this and that, swear they wouldn't rat
Swear they got the sack, and they swear they toting gats
Bitch, you wack
See this ink on me? Lil boy, it means something
I got a handful of people that'll murk you in public
So come try me, lil bitch
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