Bob - Grand Hustle Kings lyrics

[Intro] [T.I. talking]: Uncle Quincy they gon dig this Haha, hold up Yeaaaah! [Chorus]: Alright 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 [T.I.:] 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 s**ers 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 [Chorus] [B.o.B:] 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 sh** 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" [Chorus] [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 [Chorus]