Hustle Gang - Let Me Find Out (Remix) (feat. Doe B, T.I., Juicy J) lyrics
Featuring Doe B, T.I., & Juicy J (Verse 1: Doe B) Let me find out these n***as still hating on the low And their whole life savings I get paid for a show Then re-up, there's my walkthrough My sneakers, did they house know? Think I need a whole thang of Keisha just to talk to 'em Small town, big money, baby, I make boss moves They say Doe B lane is like T-Pain without the autotune Bring out the Apollo boom I'mma sandman these n***as Give you two thumbs down Boy, your swag ain't official Let me find out them fake Guccis Let me find out them fake Louis Let me find out your baby mama is a man-eater She ate my children Let me find out you fake juug And I come through like "aye, buddy!" You 25, just started trapping Let me find out you straight work it Taylor Gang, straight trippy Hustle Gang what it is, pimping? Got so many white friends I bring back Tommy Hilfiger ATL, let me find out Memphis Ten, let me find out M.I.A., N-Y-C, Texas, Cali, Chi-Town (Hook) Let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out Let me find out... b**h, let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out b**h, let me find out... (Verse 2 : T.I.) Let me find out and I'm ridin' out Got four choppers, no 9s out I'm reset, you timed out I'm playin' with it, you fouled out You got a foul mouth? You'll get two shots n***a, AND-1 with my handgun n***a talk about dough but that's something You ain't never had your hands on Got folk in Alabama, they still call me on that... I do it for the gutter, not just to get the glamour Who that n***a from Atlanta say he got a lot of d**? Say you looking for a plug? b**h, you lookin' at the plug I'mma... real young n***a You want this hoe, better come get her We don't want your b**h, mane We just wanna have fun with her Okay, well, let me find out you channeled it Ridin' 'round town just saving hoes n***a, she ain't all yours, we shared the b**h But let me find out she havin' your baby, though (Hook) Let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out Let me find out... b**h, let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out b**h, let me find out... (Verse 3 : Juicy J) Let me find out... Juicy J's your girl's favorite rapper I'mma f** her all night and I'mma give her back after I ain't hand cuffing these hoes like shackles For the green and the cheese like a Green Bay Packer Trippy Mane, f** you baby I come and play like Tom Brady Kush is my medication Ride presidential like Ronald Reagan p**y n***as need to stop hating My flow sick like cancer patients Rolex and a new Bugatti, yes, b**h I'm ice skating My last b**h must've been a chauffeur, she drove me crazy No key, that space age, my ignition, I done made it Juicy J, that's trippy, hoe - Taylor Gang, that's trippy, hoe Smokin' on that Christmas tree my belt buckle like mistletoe Houston with your wife - she just spent the night With my dick in her mouth and my balls in her hand Like the b**h was shootin' dice Juicy J, I got long money I got 1998 song money b**h pour that Patron for me I rock shows, boy, I'm stone money (Hook) Let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out Let me find out... b**h, let me find out... Let me find out... n***a, let me find out b**h, let me find out...