Lyrics Who We Is (OG) - Hustle Gang, T.I., Trae Tha Truth

Who We Is (OG) - Hustle Gang, T.I., Trae Tha Truth
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?)

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Castle Walls 2010
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Shoulder Lean ft. T.I. 2011
Young & Stupid ft. Travis Mills 2015
Pimpin' (S.L.A.B.ed) 2004

Artist lyrics: Hustle Gang
Artist lyrics: T.I.
Artist lyrics: Trae Tha Truth
Artist lyrics: Doe B
Artist lyrics: Young Dro

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