Westside Gunn - The Hurt Business lyrics

[Intro: Westside Gunn] Brr Ayo Brr Ayo, ayo, ayo, ayo Brr [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Ayo, I'm on the [?] talkin' Flair, his face all bloody Rope hangin' off, got hit with a chair (Ah) Wore [?] to the dance floor, Greg Valentine lower tops Blow his brains out, right off the handlebars (Boom, boom, boom, boom) Doggypiled the riches, tremendous Push a three door Benz, they never comin' out, I had twins (Skrrt) Walked up on him, pulled my gun out close, take that fu*kin' chain off (Take that fu*kin' sh*t off) I need that money and that socks filled with bags of dope (Ah) Duffle bag rumours when we read up My dread shot five ni**as, move to VA and rock the Caesar (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot) Peace almighty, grimy (Peace) Kimbo еdition, my alma matter is Federal prison (Ah) Guеss who ran the day room? Don't touch the wrong TV I'm watchin' 106 and Park with my shades on ni**as gettin' pleasure when they toe tag your vintage Gaultier (Boom, boom, boom, boom) I'm talkin' old fashion, shooter got a coke habit (Boom, boom, boom, boom) [Chorus: Westside Gunn & Smoke DZA] Ayo, the flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Brr, brr, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (All my ni**as in the box) When one come home, then another get knocked (Then another get knocked) Flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (All my ni**as in the box, ah, Kushed God, b*tch) When one come home, then another get knocked (Uh, then another get knocked) [Verse 2: Smoke DZA] It only take a half a second to establish the hit (really) Send my lil' homie at you, have him stab through your KITH Got a kilo on my neck, ni**a, average a brick Your b*tch face painted on my pants, Ravishing Rick (Uh) How stylish is this? No hate, no malice is this Whippin' heavy, all these carats on wrists Thousand dollar bottle sprays, my whole palate is rich Ménage à trois times six, ni**a, Paris was lit I get more twat, more checks than you (I shake the spot) You a vegan, now you a vegetable (I spin the block) All guns blazin', my man got locked Came home, went back, he said it's vacation (Uh) Uptop shakin', just stuffed a Backwood of eight when West made the tag from the apron (Really) Five star suites to bust plays, you do the Days Inn (Uh) Get to the money, everyday spent [Chorus: Westside Gunn & Wale] Ayo, the flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Brr, brr, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (All my ni**as in the box) When one come home, then another get knocked (Then another get knocked) Flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (Look, yeah, all my ni**as in the box, ah) When one come home, then another get knocked (Wale, uh, let's go, then another get knocked) [Verse 3: Wale] Alhamdulillah, most valuable like Hassan Assad Got enhancements to them hammers, they'll do their job On my side, Cullinan with the windows down Play whatever hand I get, but never ever show my card Lay down, ni**as ain't thug, don't think we can't tell It ring out, coughin' up blood, look like your gang red Folarin poppin', fiends coppin', ask my young one A lot of shoppers don't look like rockers because they young bucks Haha, okay, who doper than them? Got two pairs of Duncan foams and I ain't open 'em yet A ni**a been floatin' on these vocals, I been a GOAT with the pen And ni**as snub me or they will, we keep revolvers for that Folarin is back, I tried to keep my dawg out the trap He say he gotta work the rock like Kevin Hart [?] It's hard to be great and honestly way harder when black And I feel like Jake, rob us, boy, slimin' is back, for real [Chorus: Westside Gunn] Ayo, the flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Brr, brr, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (All my ni**as in the box) When one come home, then another get knocked (Then another get knocked) Flyest motherfu*kers got the game on lock (Got the game on lock, ah) Keep shootin' it 'til it ain't no shots (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, 'til it ain't no shots) Allah, please forgive all my ni**as in the box (Look, yeah, all my ni**as in the box, ah) When one come home, then another get knocked (Then another get knocked)