H.S.E.

H.S.E. - G'z N' Ballaz lyrics

(feat. E.S.G.)

Hustlaz Stackin' Endz

Hus-Hustlaz Stackin' Endz

Hus-Hustlaz Stackin' Endz

[Hook x2]

G's and baller, ballers and g's

Real playas crawl low, and keep they rides on three's

[Redd]

Ballers and g's, hustlers stackin' ends

Thinking bout riding in the Benz, and still chilling with my friends

Talking bout stack after stack, going dollar for dolla

I'm the type of playa, that make these yellas scream and holla

Cause I gots to stack paper, crawl low like a gator

Never will be plex, I won't settle for less

Gotta ball like a g, man they can't see me

And I'm with H.S.E., and we stacking E-N-D's

Rolling three's, flipping like laid

Staying playa made, chopping on blades

I gotta stay for real, diamonds in my grill

I'm a big baller, with my mind on a mill, mill

[Hook x2]

[AP]

Put a horse on my chest, screens in my headrest

Flossing in my S-S, like skipper on the minnow

T.V. station on Jay Leno, as I freak this flowing bimbo

Wearing Fassachi on my face, protecting my eyes from the sun

Just like the bulletproof, protecting my body from the gun

Flipping behind tents, so them haters can't see

A H-Town g, playing Sega c.d.

H.S.E. I'm AP, and so true to the game

[Chorus x2]

[Lil Flip]

I'm gripping grain when I swang, I rattle when I bang

A T.V. VCR in my car, like Bruce Wayne

Ain't a damn thang changed, we on a mission

Ain't no competition, for my stretched Expedition

I'm the trophy truck slabber, cell phone grabber

Throwing up the deuce, sipping juice while I travel

Southside man, watching Major Pain

Ten gold shine, like a wet candy cain

I'm rolling when I chop, I'm dancing when I hop

Sitting sideways, watch the trunk go pop

If it's still wrecking, pimping by the second

Mortal Kombat, Street Fighter or Teken

Get the crowd rowdy, Southside is cloudy

20 inch blaze on the 9-7 Audi

Still standing taller, break a trick scholar

H.S.E. click, graduated as some ballers

[Hook x2]

[E.S.G.]

At 17 I had dreams, of being a pimp in the Lac

I was sitting on four flats, with a dent in the back

Now one-time hate me, cause I'm the hardest to plex

1-9-8-3, L dog for it

I'm ready to clone, come down dancing I'ma shine

See the change, and all the people in my grill, I gots to get my scrill

Now that won't take long, for this natural born hustler

Got me new braids, shoes, paid my dues and got to mark it

Top to bottom wood grain, got me looking like a dresser

When it's smoking for my a.c., got a brand new compressor

Beat up for the dash and seats, stashing sweets in my pop's spot

Can't no bustas slide, in the bump with my drop top

We bail to the detail, to give that ass a shine

Gripping screens, four 15's in my drop top blast a rhyme

Got my nine on my armrest, best you jackers chill

Bubble headlights, watch the red light, they known to get you killed

What's the deal

[talking]

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments