Letras
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy
I was taught to rob
Country boy hustle, up in my bag
I play by the dozens
Touching my cash, then you better get a dozen
Boy I don't play 'bout my motherfucking money
Sticks with the drums, weed in the jars
Boy I got everything you need plus some
Bitches on me trying to have my son
No, I don't fuck, and she asks how come
Man, I don't even talk to them hoes
Face down, ass up, then I'm blocking a hoe
Boy, you the type to put paint on your toes
Cash in the pocket, coke in the nose
Leaving out the mall with a wrist full of gold
Stake in the stomach, a brand new coat
After I'm done she pull to my home
And give me what I want, many bitches so cold
That's why I'm a soulja
Hustle from sun up to sun down
I ain't gonna play around
That's why I'm a soulja
Stand up guy won't lay down
Know I won't put the K down
That's why I'm a soulja
I then got built up and broke down
So I'm on my own now
That's why I'm a soulja
I'm not a snake I'm a cobra
Fuck me over and I'm fucking you over
Yeah you fuck me over you done
I fucked on his bitch like a handful of times
I seen his ass at the motherfucking function
He paid for that gas with a handful of dimes
Cursed on that boy then he motherfucking cried
I don't have sex to do but I'm late every time
I hop on a track and talk sex every line
She say when we fex, she nut every time
Me some soulja, got hits in the folder
I know that ain't gas, I can tell by the odor
That boy a simp, stay trying to control her
But she want a pimp to come scoop in the Rover
Bitch know me crazy, she thinking I know her
You know I'm still thugging, got Glocks in the stroller
He green as hell like a motherfucking clover
I pull up, his bitch come with me, then it's over
That's why I'm a soulja