| G’yeah, what’s wrong with you niggas out here man
|
| I done been in y’all shoes already man
|
| You act like I took a magic carpet ride, to where I’m at
|
| I been there and done that nigga, I’ve paid my dues already
|
| I started small time, karaoke rhymes
|
| Jotting raps on my pad, till I ran out of lines
|
| Use to flow from day to night, till I got it right
|
| It wasn’t till mixtapes, I felt spotlight
|
| Thinking back when Slim Thug, use to live like a scrub
|
| Out the trunk selling mixtapes, out at the club
|
| Had to hit the road for days, rolling in rental cars
|
| Building up my client tale, determined to be a star
|
| Use to do talent shows, every week and lose
|
| Stay out till 4, be up at six for school
|
| Being Slim, wasn’t always cool
|
| When I told 'em I’d be a star, they use to call me a fool
|
| I done plenty songs for free, shows on the G. P
|
| Worked hard, to make another nigga money
|
| I guess that’s why I’m blessed, with the cars on dubs
|
| I paid my dues, fools gon give me some love
|
| (forgiveness for my good old love) for those that hated
|
| You don’t know how long we waited, to say
|
| (forgiveness for my good old love), you talk down
|
| But then you always around, trying to
|
| (forgiveness for my good old love), at first you knocked it
|
| But then we dropped it, and you jocked it so
|
| (forgiveness for my good old love), fuck it
|
| Well give it to me then, give it to me
|
| I was born to be a hustler, simple and plain
|
| Got tired of being broke, so I entered the game
|
| With no fame and no change, just a pen and a pad
|
| All you lames can complain, but I’m getting my cash
|
| A dime to a dolla, I double my digits
|
| I grind for my dollas, and hustle ridiculous
|
| Cause friends like to smile, and have fun when you down
|
| And never have no ends, to lend when you down
|
| But that’s o.k., cause I laugh at the past
|
| Writing raps everyday, as I mash on the gas
|
| A Hogg, that never looked back
|
| Now they say Sir Da', I didn’t know you could rap
|
| And you crabs, trying to earn my friendship
|
| I swear this back stabbing, and fake shit is endless
|
| But fuck it, man to my whole thugs
|
| I’m a hustle with thugs, so nigga show me love
|
| I use to push, nick’s and dimes
|
| Now all I do is spit a few hits, and rhyme
|
| But this game is no different, it’s a constant grind
|
| I need a constant shine, fuck being in a constant bind
|
| Been rapping since sixth grade, getting lunch in line
|
| Filling up my notebooks, with a bunch of rhymes
|
| I knew that I could succeed, if I put my all in it
|
| Superstardom had a place for me, one day I’d fall in it
|
| I use to write them notes, and quotes in class
|
| Everytime the teacher’d pass, she would gross my ass
|
| They use to joke and laugh, when I’d say I rap
|
| Now they get out they seats and clap, when I say I rap
|
| All the caps and miss-happ's, is a thing in the past
|
| You use to didn’t cut for me, now you bringing me cash
|
| You use to say that Kyle was ugly, now they bringing me ass
|
| Now that my flow made me do', now they bringing it fast |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Good Ole Luv (feat. Sir Daily & Killa Kyleon) , by - Slim Thug. Song from the album Boyz-N-Blue, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп