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letra de hustle gang portna - weeshlow

n-ggas try me, catch fifty first
choppa so big n-gga hit reverse
i’mma draw down on you and your partner so perfect
you gon’ think this sh-t rehe-rs-d
i can spit the verse but can’t handle the repercussions
ak clips and russians
blood is rushing, cold–ss swiss accounts
so you know the coats is tuscan
teddy ruxpin, n-gga, i’m a bear
black kush, weed, n-gga, put it in the air
black mink cover up the living room chair
chinchillas cover up my b-tches over there
westside, i can make a k!lling over there
eastside, i can’t pimp without slim
spodee on deck, can’t k!ll it without him
three crazy, front pocket on dip, blow

[hook: young dro]
i was kickin’ my sh-t, just cooling, ’bout to smoke another o
kickin’ my feet up, young n-gga g’d up, probably rollin’ with your ho
now all these folks got somethin’ to say about where i be and where i go
i heard n-ggas was lookin’ for me, p-ssy n-gga, here i go
here i go, here i go (p-ssy n-gga, here i go)
here i go, here i go

[verse 2: young dro]
probably with your b-tch – big b-tt, can’t fit up in the six
a hundred whole bucks’ll get you two purple zips
a hundred whole bands made the ap glitch
she don’t wanna f-ck me, she wanna f-ck my wrist
tell her like young dro: “f-ck that b-tch” (i said f-ck that b-tch)
bought a 357, went back to the neighbourhood, bought that b-tch

[verse 3: weeshlow.]
you n-ggas better go on with the buster sh-t
i send 50 then empty out another clip
i’m westside ridin’ my hooptie still
on the phone seeing where my little cousin is
(i’m on the southside right now)
(it ain’t nothin’ in the whip but some dope and some tools)
and n-gga we so deep, so don’t even
if it ain’t on me, i’m strapped like a fool, biotch!
(i know a n-gga that cut work, b-tch)
(ride with bricks like it’s no risk)
(buddy, yay cost two bands)
i’m so ma’f-ckin’ focussed
but these n-ggas said they g?
they some p-ssies to me
ten years in the game, still a rookie to me
you don’t like what i’m saying?
hail marys in your face right now
yeah, n-gga, you ain’t gotta look for me

[hook]

[verse 4: shad da god]
i’m made for this – steak and lobster, my table’s dish
been kickin’ this flavour sh-t
no lacoste but this ‘gator, b-tch (watch out, ho)
dro is my brother from another mother, we made the clique
me and slim from decatur, trick
f-ck with us, get your tater split
i spit rhymes like i’m 6’9 and my cadences
leave pr-cks tryna to depict lines
clique tryna portray this sh-t (b-tch)
b-tch i’m big time, don’t play with this
i’ve got six 9s, when i clip mine
your whole clique dying, arcadians (yeah…)
we the 300, n-gga
if you want the ho, you’d better come and get her
it’s pimpin here, i ain’t no baby sitter
i’ve got 30 shoes with ‘gator in ’em (checks)
p-ssy–ss n-ggas so lame, go all bare for the limelight (limelight)
f-ck what you heard, that chopper’ll get a ma’f-cka’s mind right

- weeshlow

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