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Grand Hustle Kings

This song is by B.o.B and appears on the mixtape No Genre (2010).

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[Intro] [T.I. talking]:
Uncle Quincy they gon dig this
Haha, hold up

All right people, I wanna see you dance if your type forever
Get your hands up, say hey
And shawty you're looking good
Come here, let me see you dance
Now get ya hands up
Your hearts

I got to the park, super cool, stupid hot
He the freshest from his fitted down to the shoes and socks
Can you wanna like it, couldn't care less if you do or not
A reminder for those of you who forget
Here's the king partna', ya ain't bout to say a big deal I'm not
Fifty mill I got, double down why not
177 Aston Martin cash and carry off the lot
They say money talk but listen Shorty 'cause I talk a lot
Incredible, my pockets and a cherry red drop
Your money funny, big diamonds in the words red boss
We're gonna be smoking the city when I come kicking come and witness
8 hundred young women all here for Young Fif
Listen, if I really dig her, let her meet my uncle Quincy
Catch up with me suckers gonna need a solid month of Wendy
Many moons will it take you buffoons and many goons
Presents fill up any room, King back gimme room

I told the World what I'm gon do, check the charts if you want proof
Number 1 and number 2, I'll take the rest, don't mind if I do
Pull my seat up to this table in the game, where's my food
But frankly, I accomplished what they said I'll never do
Or maybe you've been sleeping or snoozing on me before
Or possibly, blocking me from opening doors
And everybody surprised now
3 years down the road
But where was everybody when albums wasn't in stores
Who cares if it ain't fair
'Cause I mean?
Bob on beast, Bob on blast, Bob is everything you say
It's finesse, an expression, an emphasis on my name
Talking record labels corporations this is entertainment
Here is what I meant
They be like "hey Bob try this
Put on this shirt, put on these jeans
Put on this hat, that'd be the shit
Rap it like that, sing it like this
Yeah yeah yeah
That'll be a hit
What's his name?"
Well I'm in my own lane and that's why I ain't that"

Young Dro:
Hey look, came on so hard
You don't see the star in me
Dro, I can do anything, you don't see the heart in me
Pressure becomes combustible
Wheels squeezing the arteries of haters
Plus my uncle is Quincy Jones so pardon me
I like riding a may
When it come to money boy, we got that?
Looking bad as ever, mansion in the panamerica
Why sick, I'm extravagant and clever
Will damage you, it's whatever
Grand Hustle Kings
I won't get off the mic until that thing starts sizzling
Block you like a histamine
This is really history
Watch ya old lady 'fore I slip in with this hickory
Like Elmo y'all tickle me
Why I still be ripping beats
Backing fantastic, tell me that you've been listening
White on white, drop back joint
T.I in a ride out
2 of the best in the game, what you gotta decide about

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