Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who We Is (OG), artist - Hustle Gang. Album song Hustle Gang Presents: G.D.O.D. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.10.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: HGGH
Song language: English
Who We Is (OG) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Aye, who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas everybody love to hate |
Riding through the city with the windows up |
(And how we live, nigga?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
Want the top spot, ain’t no runners up |
Sorry we do not believe in second place |
On a bus full of sluts, they can’t fuck with us |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now who we is?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Now who we is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now how we live?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(And what it is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
Head honcho, war ready |
Got the Ks and the carbon in the car already |
Do what you do, shawty bust your move |
But when I come back, nigga ya’ll you gon' get it |
I guess it’d be best if I do my stuff? |
Run up on your girl, nigga two guns up (Hey!) |
Better watch what you do my guy, you don’t wanna make it me and you my guy |
Cause if you get mad then a few might fly, but if if I get mad 22 might die |
You can’t fit these in a shoe, my guy |
They way too big, bang bang you dead |
You take back everything you said |
Fo' I put a hole in it, Imma drain your head |
I wearing green when the blood hit the shirt, then I looked at the stain said |
it ain’t so red |
Mi loco, no comprende, all we do is get busy |
I’m connected with the, it’s ain’t no hoe nigga with me |
The realest in your city, whatever city you sent me |
Was born a real nigga, it ain’t no going against it |
(Who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Aye, who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas everybody love to hate |
Riding through the city with the windows up |
(And how we live, nigga?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(Now who we is?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Now who we is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now how we live?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(And what it is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
Sucka nigga leave a bitch around, nigga Imma leave 'em both mad |
The way I do a hoe is so sad |
You ain’t tuned into this then pick up your remote pad |
If a thug sending killers, send a hoe with the most ass? |
I do a nigga so bad |
Smoke that, that’s your ass |
I ain’t never took shit from a nigga, but his whole cash |
You’re so bad with the class you can’t gon' get the choke tag |
Pussy nigga where your hoe at? |
Young nigga where your hoe at? |
Might as well give her up, cause you ain’t havin no swag |
And you don’t got the most cash, you ain’t even in the poor class, |
your little bitty hoe ass |
No fashion and no class |
Every nigga over here been cool since the throwbacks |
I’m a brand new Ducati, little buddy you a moped |
Ya’ll better have Dro ass, we show you where the dope at |
Only got two rules, leave a designated boat? |
man |
And whatever you do, nigga, don’t mention name |
I’ll break a hoe in four halves |
My Chevrolet is running, he got 200 and 4 valves |
Imma show you how to go there, for these niggas it no fair |
I’m so rare, hoe yeah, nigga |
(Who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Aye, who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas everybody love to hate |
Riding through the city with the windows up |
(And how we live, nigga?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(Now who we is?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Now who we is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now how we live?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(And what it is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
Okay, I’m bad, and I got a whole lotta cash |
Real fast, put it all in the stash |
Ya’ll ain’t struggle, got a little bitch mediocre |
Might get a little head in the slab? |
Really need to cool it, how when I’m still toting uzis? |
I’ll take a nigga slice of the pizza |
Kick a little flash, spend a couple racks on sneakers |
My whip got James Bond featured |
Shit, my gang hustle, ain’t wait for a handout |
Show my hairline, my pants down |
Oh you ain’t ask 'round, better go and check my background |
Fuck around, hear the Mac sound |
Yeah I can laugh now, been a while since I been broke |
Been broke, that was no joke |
Came from a Pinto, all the way to a Benzo |
Iced out Rollie make my wrist glow |
Hold up, let me slow it down |
Slow low, then some more rounds |
On the way to your hoe now |
And niggas don’t play with us, cause we armed and dangerous |
We the face of the A-town |
Hold up, I beg your pardon |
Flexing on niggas, I’m sorry |
Been stealing my swag, you could borrow it |
Now say it to the face of the carbon (Bah! Bah!) |
(Who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Aye, who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas everybody love to hate |
Riding through the city with the windows up |
(And how we live, nigga?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(Now who we is?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Now who we is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now how we live?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
(And what it is?) |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
Imma show you how to spit this shit, if you counting syllables, Killin em, |
it’s pitiful, leaving 'em hospitable (Dro) |
I’m the motherfucker that’ll get at you, and I been fucking with your main hoe |
since I was 22 |
I’m young and I’m thuggin' and I’m going out bustin' |
And if you need a brick of that hard, give me some fuckin' with? |
You know them boy straight, when I break down nick sacks |
And I have them pussy niggas taking off from the click-clack (Bow!) |
Get back, break a nigga off like a Kit-Kat |
Where your bitch at? |
Where the bricks at? |
You been in the gym working out, oh I get that |
Well you can get six bullets in your six-pack (Boom!) |
Oh, we need a goon to fire your ass up, put you in a room and tie your ass up |
Nigga want a plate, then hit him with the butt |
Of the K, in the mouth and wire his ass up |
Crazy, please don’t upset the one |
At hoes in the 44, tech the gun |
Call me DMC without Run |
Man, I got so much game I fuck nuns |
Young Dro ain’t Hustle Gang, nigga please that’s just like UGK without Bun |
And I got a mask on my face with a gat on my waist, street sweeper upset? |
when I come |
(Who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas all them bitches love to fuck |
(Aye, who we is, nigga?) |
We them niggas everybody love to hate |
Riding through the city with the windows up |
(And how we live, nigga?) |
Presidential shit, I’m talking JFK |
Want the top spot, ain’t no runners up |
Sorry we do not believe in second place |
On a bus full of sluts, they can’t fuck with us |
And it’s Hustle Gang over everything |
(Now who we is?) |