Humble Hustler

Lyrics

[Intro: CashClick Boog & Rio Da Yung OG] I'm tellin' you, brodie, all you ogtta do is run that lil' time down to come home, man Niggas already know what it is, this shit already on the floor Bitch, you already done fucked the game up, you know what I'm sayin'? So they waitin' on you You fell what I'm sayin'? Just run that lil' time down, nigga When you come home, nigga, we gon' ball, you heard me? I fucked the game up, Boog And I don't even wanna rap with niggas no more, man I ain't gon' lie, bitch, me and Louie been workin', I'ma keep it one hundred We, we got a whole tape complete, we ain't even dropped yet Mike been fuckin' with me too The whole gang been fuckin' with me, for real Niggas in there, we be back to back, you already know I don't be writin' nothin' down You know I'm in there with Louie, he showin' me the sauce Bro givin' me the sauce I don't even be writin' no more Can't be stealin' the sauce neither, bitch Can't be tellin' nobody the secret sauce right there, that's the sauce right there That's the comeback shit Crazy bag when you come back Crazy numbers when you drop, that's the— Yeah, Def Jam gotta— yeah, what up? Yeah That's that type of numbers We gotta put the numbers on the board, man (Oh, it wasn't produced by RJ? Throw the beat away) [Verse: CashClick Boog] I know them Balenci sock runners ain't fake, what your sneaker say? Oh, it wasn't produced by RJ? Throw the beat away I got the ball and passed it off to my dog, we playin' keep-away I'm tryna run me up a half a million for Jesus sake Diss your dead nigga just like Gucci did all in Jeezy face Tell the opps I'm ridin' with an oven, come get easy-baked Tell the plug I'll be there 'round eight, what's your ETA? Racks on me in my ghetto, boy, like that shit Peezy claim I'll buy a box of 'Woods with a hundred and let 'em keep the change I'm startin' to peep when your money change, that's when people change When I get to poppin' Adderalls, I don't sleep some days I been fuckin' hoes before the ice, I don't need no chain My whole life, I had to take chances, hit the road, go get it I can be in a whole different state and still control my city I be out in KC with the Crips shootin' four-five-sixes Even on D, we tryna score, yeah, we goal line blitzin' Just did seven more runs, I'm tryna pull up in a Rolls by Christmas Leavin' out of Ice Champs on tip while I'm holdin' my pistol I had to go catch a body first just to mold my killer Still sick when I think about Stacks, I can't control my feelings Walkin' out the club pissy drunk, I can't hold my liquor Biggest mistake niggas ever made was when they stole my nigga Every two months, I'm tryna put up a hundred-some I had to grind 'cause ain't no handout when your stomach touchin' Once I make three million off rappin', I'm done with hustlin' My brodie rich, but he don't own no ice, he a humble hustler