Jaron — Hussle Hard

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Текст Jaron — Hussle Hard

Intro]
We in the building
Yeah
Let’s go

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
King Push
They think that they know, something ’bout my life
Not in the same class, not on the same flight
Maybe the same club, just not the same lights
Both fucked the same bitch, just not the same night
You just took her phone number, I just took her home with a-
‘Nother bitch, ménage, Boomerang, Strange’
Lipstick on my collar, Oscar de la Renta
Your hijo pequeño, my nachos bel grande
Stay sippin’ that André, spent three stacks, that’s André
That Balmain, that Phillip Lim, they say I’m dressing like Kanye
I’m everything that my rhymes say: breadwinner, brand owner
Play Cloths, millionaire, trendsetter, landowner
Hope your bitch don’t land on him
Drink in his hand with the sand on him
You small time, you Hyundais
Y’all couch niggas, we stand on ’em
Dope money with a band on it
Half gold, we got a hand on it
D-Boys still ball the same, just gotta little bit of glam on it
Yah!

[Verse 2: Bryant Dope]
Yo, I got flames for your download link
I let Ja Rule when I murder ink
Murder pink, murder what you thought and what you think
This Queens prodigy is the product of what you ain’t
Well packaged to distribute to the masters
Plotted this since first grade classes
Class is elements of a classic, I’ve got evidence of a master
You never thought you’d be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? You can’t take my heat
Fireball flow, can’t bat in my league
I’m the best rapper that’s been slept on
Stick around like gum that’s been stepped on
Stepped on, I stepped up, so what up?
Tryna make bread with these damn cold cuts
I cold crush every beat that I touch
My words silk and my flow is pure plush
Tell HudMo Dope says, «What’s up?»

[Verse 3: Go Dreamer]
Go Dreamer’s a looney (Uh)
Wish upon a star (So what’s up?)
I’m too cold for Pluto so I’m movin’ back to Mars
‘Cause this that spaceship, that space shit
This that Category 5, this that quake, bitch, that quake, bitch
See I’m so funked out, like out of here
Like blue lights in the basement
And it’s a red state, in Georgia with it
Last verse, did you get it? Nah
Never mind, just throw that cash in a duffle
As I’m on my Hollywood shuffle
Eatin’ your million dollar truffles, this acquirin’ taste, nigga
Tantalise so you can see the bigger picture that God is the light
In the fixture or in the background
Cut all the hatin’ in the background
‘Cause if music and money is the motive, then you’re so gimmick
Who’s to tell me I can’t have a trillion dollar grilled cheese sandwich?
Boy stop playin’, stop playin’, I’m just sayin’, just sayin’
Go, go, go, go-go (Uh), go, go, go, uh
Now who else wanna fuck with Hollyweird Go?