PSC - Grand Hustle Radio (Ft. P$C & Young Dro) lyrics

[T.I. Speaking] Yo ho-a** n***as Yeah you already know what it is P$C homie, Pimp Squad Click Grand Hustle pimpin', West Side Mac Boney, AK, C-Rod Ay, Big Kuntry King, T.I.P. pimpin' Young Dro, what it is [Verse 1: T.I.] Hey pimpin', you ain't even gotta wonder who is the man Got white, got tan in a Buick sedan Shawty cool as a fan, with a tool in the hand Did a few in the can, then flew to Japan I make moves, no plans, ya'll do what you can I know they still don't understand how I influence the fans Get a mil on the back end, and a few in advance You see I ain't just dropping records pimp, I'm building a brand First week, scanned five hundred thousand, damn This race is a marathon, how many miles you ran? The gun fights and court cases just supply the hype And then you wonder why we called it 25 To Life [Verse 2: Mac Boney] In Atlanta I'm the man, Peru I'm a giant Got a deal, half a mil, no Freestyle Friday It's my way or the highway, sell yey, buy yey They say diamonds are forever, so I wear them thanks to Kanye I drive [(?? 1:30)] down a one-way, with my gun out on a Monday Land your hating on my runway, I'ma melt you like a sundae We can start the beefing now, on Gangsta Grillz I'm bout that gunplay You get it poppin' on a two-way, I get it poppin' in [(?? 1:50) your poo-face] [Verse 3: Young Dro] Hey yo, my guns come from kosovo, blow open your Rover door And overthrow all ya'll s**ers with the forty four AK in your shoulder blow and shoot you in the throat some more Sosa Dro, the one who left Scarface with an open hole [(?? 2:05) ??] beef with me, it's asinine, acid rhyme Your Tahoe sit on 26, mine sit on 29 Pa** I'm flying, try to stop me, go 'head [(?? 2:12) Dope bread, try to chop a] Gucci lean and shoot him in the forehead [Verse 4: Big Kuntry King] (You know who this is, man) It's hurricane, Kuntry King, pimpin' at its finest baby When your girls choose, grown men turn into whining babies In the club, vision light, purp getting my vision right VVSs in my chain, baby I guess I am the light In the game, like a Learjet, 'bout to take flight Over these cloudy s**ers, I'm getting money s**ers I'm from the West side, the opposite of Chris Tucker Where the trap stars follow us, cause we known hustlers I'm so gangsta, like a [(?? 2:42) Don, a gone] story That white girl bought me everything, that's no story Shawty, you could read it, while I'm out here living it Rubberband banks standing tall, see I'm doing it [Verse 5: C-Rod] Hey yo, this Pimp Squad radio, and this is more than rap You can catch me in the streets, getting to the flow Riding in my '84, with a zone of purp And two chicks to flirt, with none up under they skirt, and boy I keep that work And you can catch me on the West side of Atlanta, putting in work Whether it's grams to fiends or these rounds to the team It be the Squad that they scream when we step on the scene [Verse 6: AK] (Ch-chop) The West side phenomenon, the ghetto icon First born, another Southern leader's what I've become AK, that's me, P$C my clique, break bread with Jason G I was made on the streets, South West to MLK I'm the silent a**a**in, wild and graphic You, you just a make-believer made out of plastic Ask every continent who they prefer on top Pimp Squad bust it open while they say "Don't stop" The chop master, who? Razor man, AK man Like Brian Nichols, this my trial, make you s**ers dead men 25 To Life the album that's gon' break they plans Don't shake my hand, uncuff your lady, she's a horny fan [T.I. speaking] West side A-town Bankhead P$C pimpin'