Lyrics Birdman – Dont Hustle Again

Intro
This shit classic, this H
This for all the hustlers
It’s for the real ones

Verse 1
Money that’s my life, money that’s my light
My money make me mad, my money make me right
My money make me laugh, my money make me cry
My money is my love, for money you will die
Illiterate thugs down for cigarette buzz
Minding my life in prison so I’m living it up
Red champagnia, to celebrate
Triple ccmb, we selling weight
Organized crime, organized mind
One bird call you shot 45 times
45 fully, fully automatic
Bitch is fully loaded, if you want it, you can have it
I’ma grind till my cheese straight
Thinking back to the days when my mama used to say

Hook
I’ve got to hold on,
Don’t, don’t hustle again
Hold on me, I’ve got to hold on
Don’t, don’t hustle again
Cause I can’t breathe
I’ve got to hold on, hold on, hold on
Me, I’ve got to hold on
Don’t, don’t hustle again

Verse 2
800 milligram fresh from the pharmacy
Like lucas, get it to the army
I keep sit on me, cmb cash money is an army
So we flip em out the Jag, 200 on the dash
Bitch we mash, duffle bag full of cash
Louie v bag, 2 mill just to splash
See my homie beat one, nigga beat another one
Then the beat another one, then he beat another one
Then the beat another one, then he beat another one
Like money ain’ shit, pop a few bottles nigga fuck another bitch
Celebrate for the licks, celebrate on chips

Hook