Joell Ortiz – Hustle Hard Lyrics



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Hustle Hard Lyrics by Joell Ortiz

Joell Ortiz - Hustle Hard Lyrics

Joell Ortiz – Hustle Hard Lyrics

Send “Hustle Hard” Ringtone to your Cell

yeah, yeah, i was out there too homie boy, i was just playing my hand
on my block be hand to hand, when we see dance we scram
when it beats them cans it’s blam, sit you in that ambulance
mama … going plick, you boy can use … you can hustle but it’s not what you think
boy who told you could park? oh he did, well have him tell me before you end up smoked
brand new luggage in the trunk, now pop the anal … and yeah i hustle hard
no hold up, listen to me, listen to me, literally …i hustle hard, with them … i’m chef boyard
and my rounds stay after part and i need some harden chevy i don’t do them fancy cars
i’m no pablo escobar, i’m pablo boulevard, with a hundred million loco … that’s on my squad
one whisper you go to guard, garbage in my spot, that’s a not
and every fee like the renee’s was hooked to the rock from the crooked
where you pop a funny look, you get shot you be so shook
you can stop you ain’t no crook, i can spot a perpetrator from a mile away
dog you’re looking like a purple haze in the …
hit it this way the lion stay, nah i ain’t talking about jeez when i stay that steam
from the iron’s way, hustling cause i promise myself i’ll be clean, on my dying day
but i’m nowhere near death so i told shawty open up wide cause closed mouths don’t get fed
so i let cough a bit i get caught up in a way with your fans i’ma get this bread
you the king of your hood i’m the ace in mine, now ace tell them what you say

same old shit, just a different day
out here tryna get it, each and every way
momma need a house
baby need some shoes
times are getting hard
guess what i’mma do

hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard

closed mouths don’t get fed on this boulevard

okay, i’m booked out until august
show money deposits
see the shit then i cop it
got but a house note in my pocket
i’m on south beach with the top off
bad bitch and her ass soft
something outta that catalogue
she introduced to that lock jaw
and i think her name was lisa
or maybe it was sheila
my chevy sittin’ too high
i call that wiz khalifa
and i’m all about the new franklins
ain’t talkin’ aretha
bitch my league too major
i’m hiphop derek jeter
and i’m still feeling my pockets
big bass and its knocking
yeah this be the remix
but still ride around with that rocket
i’ll go walking back to my household
“we the best” be the logo
hundred grand for that neck glow
all about the dinero
nigga flow so retarded
we be getting gnarley
oh kimosabe, it be me, ross, weezy party cause its the

same old shit, just a different day
out here tryna get it, each and every way
momma need a house
baby need some shoes
times are getting hard
guess what i’mma do

hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
you know i love this nigger
closed mouths don’t get fed on this boulevard

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24′s on my beemer
you never know when i slide up
19 in my nina, red dot when i ride up
hundred deep in that k.o.d
king of diamonds that’s me nigga
no you bitches can’t get my beat
choppers only thing free niggas
step to me and i teach you
somebody text his picture
straight drop in my
ace knocking my speakers
last night i counted 1 mill
this morning 150
pussy niggas can’t count me out, don’t make me hurt ya feelings, ah
v12 ?, jet blue, forget it
rolex embedded with princess and baguettes

same old brick, but’s it’s different yay
yeah that’s candy paint, on my 7 tre

same old shit, just a different day
out here tryna get it, each and every way
momma need a house, baby need some shoes
times are getting hard, guess what we gon do

hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard

closed mouths don’t get fed on this boulevard

ok, now, black card in my pocket
riding round in that gotti
pistol off my boxers
i ain’t got time to be boxing
got a red bone she look tropic
if she fuck me right then she shopping
young money we poppin’
i eat these rappers, anthony hopkins
see that v-neck, thats polo
grilled up like ocho
chuck taylors with no socks
you niggas chicken, pollo
nigga live on sundays, king of diamonds monday
swagger just dumb, call it kelly bundy
got a big house with a back yard, fish tank with sharks in it
real nigga i’m authentic
i’ll fuck the bitches ’til she short winded
got a bad bitch who be bartending
couple homies that gang bang
i get on anybody track and hit that bitch with that wayne train
free my nigga t.i
soowoo to the beehive
got a g6 and a g5
you pussy niggas you feline
don’t stop the party, we be getting gnarley
oh kimosabe, i’m with mack, ? and marley

cause its the same old shit, just a different day
out here tryna get it, each and every way
momma need a house, baby need some shoes
for that carter iv, bitch, it’s coming soon

same old shit, just a different day
out here tryna get it, each and every way
momma need a house
baby need some shoes
times are getting hard
guess what i’mma do

hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard
hustle, hustle, hustle, hard

closed mouths don’t get fed on this boulevard.

Joell Ortiz – Hustle Hard Lyrics




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