Roses And Hustlas
Chase Carbone
Owhh, my love waterin' roses
Hustlas grindin' hard
I hit the top level when I sprayed the stars
Oh, mmm
Lil' homies only dream 'bout fuckin' r&b bitch
Nah, I'm hustla hard, Yeah I'm stupid rich
Play my track, lay back, in my Maybach
Watch shinin'
While I'm clutchin' my chrome strap
The mama's boy no talent just scribbled on paper
The dreamer stopped dreamin'
When summertime wake up (Yeah)
Damn, I flipped arab jewels into a stack of paper
Even that punk blast me like fake old playa
Yeah check my shoes
You know? Check my New York hat
Muhfucka, I come-up an' droppin' lines like that
Mothafucka!
Owhh, my love waterin' roses
Hustlas grindin' hard
I hit the top level when I sprayed the stars
Owhh, my love waterin' roses
Hustlas grindin' hard
I hit the top level when I sprayed the stars
Oh, mmm
Corporate card, Yeah I'm on my own
Industry sleepin' ignore my song
I'ma mothafuckin' hustla
Yeah I'm gettin' grubbed
Man, done gunnin' on me, but I stay thugged (Yeah)
Night been ice-cold, take note
Don't you ever point a gun on me
My homie pulled a burner on your homie
You feel me on what went down
My homie shot ya homie
Okay, this ain't 'bout no money treasure
It's 'bout holdin' the spot
And survivin' all that pressure
(All that pressure)
Owhh, my love waterin' roses
Hustlas grindin' hard
I hit the top level when I sprayed the stars
Owhh, my love waterin' roses
Hustlas grindin' hard
I hit the top level when I sprayed the stars
Oh, mmm