Love of the Hustle - Jim Jones, Trav

For the love of the hustle

(Niggas love the hustle)

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Niggas levelin' up when they know the level is us

If I buy a watch I’ll bust it or even bezel it up

They know my jeweler got a hell of a touch, uh

Make movies and even my trailers is tough, uh

Saw the boys when they was trollin' the truck

I got opps, thought they was real, but they was tellin' on us, uh

Don’t give a fuck, I got that celibate touch

Made a couple mill off weed when they was mailin' it, uh

Rolls Royce truck with the suicide doors

She was five-ten, without the shoes, five-four

Penthouse eatin' meals on high floors

My man took a hit, couple mill in a dry war

Eyeball, John Wall, couple killers, they on-call, I

Matter of fact, scratch that

They probably wouldn’t catch that

Probably couldn’t see like where the ruler got his patch at

Bust it all down, where, where the latch at?

All my idols, they was false prophets

Talk about the plug, we ran off on the socket

Shit, to start talkin' war, we went and bought some rockets

Let me chill here

They stay solo as shit, it ain’t in no way sweet

Death gotta be free, 'cause livin', it ain’t cheap

For the love of the hustle, do anything just to eat

Brick and a half got you feelin' like you rich

Ayy, ten toes to the G-code

Even then, stay loyal to your people

For the love of the hustle

Brick to the face like you Deebo

Now you got to gather all them people

Now you duckin' from the RICO

For the love of the hustle

Ten toes

For the love of the hustle

Shit, millionaire minded, I sould kill 'em with kindness

Instead I’m blowin' smoke as I’m fillin' my nine clip

Had to tell a ho that I’m still in my prime, bitch

Upstairs rollin' up, eatin' dinner at Prime, bitch

I will still choke a bitch out then give her the Heimlich

It’s always gang-gang, I need my niggas to shine because

We’re stuck up in the realest of time

Yeah, I wore a camo band, Richard Mille for the time

Two hundred bucks for a watch, niggas would kill for the time

Every time I speak to my lawyer I’m gettin' billed for the time, so

Tell 'em make it sweet, every word got a price on it

Should we cop furs in his and hers, and what they write on 'em?

Maybach Benz, it never ends with the light on it

Off-white hoodie that say off-white on it

Grandma plae, I put the beige off-white on it

Drive by blocks that I played all night on it

They stay solo as shit, it ain’t in no way sweet

Death gotta be free, 'cause livin', it ain’t cheap

For the love of the hustle, do anything just to eat

Brick and a half got you feelin' like you rich

Ayy, ten toes to the G-code

Even then, stay loyal to your people

For the love of the hustle

Brick to the face like you Deebo

Now you got to gather all them people

Now you duckin' from the RICO

For the love of the hustle

Ten toes to the G-code

For the love of the hustle