Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Makin Them Swerves, artist - Nipsey Hussle. Date of issue: 20.04.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Makin Them Swerves |
| Brand new Nipsey |
| Track by RStylez |
| Ay, ay, ay, Nipsey, we in the building, my nigga |
| Slauson Boy Records |
| Ha ha, right |
| Ay, ay, my nigga, look, check this out, homie |
| Stop blowin' up my muthafuckin' phone, cuz |
| A nigga ain’t gon' get there no quicker, you feel me? |
| My nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, quick to switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Always call me back, say they need a sack |
| So nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Blowin' up my phone, they need the zones |
| So nigga I be makin' them swerves |
| Look, I stay on the grind |
| That’s why you see me on the BG, I stay on the dime |
| I stash money out of sight, but it stay on my mind |
| Sells blowin' up my phone, so I stay on my line |
| I see these dumb niggas, chasin' sales down the block |
| Fuckin' young niggas, takin' mark money from the cops |
| Every day I hit the turf, I’m like, «just come through» |
| Servin' quarters to the homies in the luxury coupe |
| I sip the Veuv and eat cake, and blow the kush through the roof |
| And play cat and mouse with CRASH cops, you know how we do |
| Stay off the radar, I dipped on Johnny in the Regal |
| Cracked a fat bitch, the next day I took her Geo |
| Green on green tint with Betty Boop in her window |
| Same block, same cop, they drove right past a nigga |
| I’m smarter than the average nigga from your set |
| Nip Hussle, muthafucka, I got traps to check |
| My nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, quick to switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Always call me back, say they need a sack |
| So nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, quick to switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Blowin' up my phone, they need the zones |
| So nigga I be makin' them swerves |
| I don’t about y’all niggas but, uh, me, I got a quota every day |
| I wear the same Dickies short but stay with the fresh J’s |
| Little hoodrat bitch, so I stay with the fresh braids |
| Keep a spot on the block to tuck when the feds raid |
| My network on the turf, it’s like the mob |
| When I pull up on my block, all my workers on they job |
| I give 'em their work, they give me my cash (Cool) |
| They pay for a seven, I throw 'em a half |
| I’m tryna connects on the herd and spread like a rash |
| 'Cause I heard in D.C., it’s 500 a half |
| That’s a thousand a whole -- fuck it, I’ll be out in the cold |
| And cook the quarters on a portable stove, my nigga |
| No, you don’t live like this |
| You ain’t never hit a lick and shook town for the flip |
| You never called UPS to track the package you sent |
| You never broke the bricks in a Motel 6, my nigga |
| My nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, quick to switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Always call me back, say they need a sack |
| So nigga, I be makin' them swerves |
| I do my thang, quick to switchin' lanes |
| These niggas, man, they get on my nerves |
| Blowin' up my phone, they need the zones |
| So nigga I be makin' them swerves |
| Why they sold bounce and grind motion pounds on the eastside |
| Cop before the cal backed and hopped out the G ride |
| Socked out niggas you thought was real killers |
| That Crenshaw summer school, Thunderdome in the village |
| Back in them days when Rack Capone knocked out Zay |
| And Nip Hussle had to pardon his fade |
| When robbin' niggas was the way that we ate |
| That check cashing, sock a nigga, ripped his pockets then shake |
| And Wet be my blue cuddie and that chrome .380 |
| Young niggas havin' money, tuckin' thousands daily |
| Johnny was on us, rough, pulled me over on a dime |
| A quarter in my ass with a pocket full of cash |
| I had some Dickies shorts on, cop told me spread my feet |
| That’s when a nigga like me thank God for briefs |
| Enough of that though, I’m outta here, I had a long day |
| I’m finna shake, cuz, and go do what the song say |
| My nigga, I be makin' them swerves |