GA Dialect

[Verse 1 – Scotty ATL] I do a microphone check, is this shit on I’m on a mission, ASAP, tryna get peso Now if you ever met a hustler you may know You make the money double up, that’s sleet rain snow I mean the house was up for rent a few summers ago I was dope, I had never met this housing before I’m on time, I was dressed for occasion I guess And at the end of the month, ay we both got checks You do the math Hustler’s ambition Wake up in the morning with a plan, fuck fishing Punching in the clock or you standing in your kitchen Hustlers 101, did I mention I’m dope, never took no training Lyrics so vivid hope an artist paint it Hustlers don’t talk when they can’t make it happen Man I told these niggas Imma make it in this rapping That’s real [Hook – Couleen Lagon] That’s a whole lot of hustle to me Get knocked down two times, but you get up three The girls hear me talking, they dropping fast You want to ride, get five on the gas, man Yeah, they say I talk slow but my money fast, man They say I talk slow but my money fast, man [Verse 2 – Scotty ATL] Now in the 9th grade I was selling candy in school I’m talking hot fries, honey buns, and mountain dew I got jammed up by the principal in the hallway The punk motherfuckers done caught me Now look, when a hustler’s down, always get up I bet he gon find a way, man that shit ain’t luck He at the right place, right time, fate I guess And at the end of the month, bet he gon get checks Some niggas laugh Hustler’s ambition Nigga calling plays, I ain’t talking bout pitching Shit coming to you if you sit around wishing Get up, get out, get something, did you listen To that goody more, take that shit slow Don’t rush in that, be C E O And if you gon waste time, waste time I guess If you getting some exposure you’re getting a check [Hook] [Verse 3 – Scotty ATL] Hustlers don’t talk about much Hustlers just make shit shake Give em a two dollar bill from the start Told em to double that, they brought back eights He shoot dice, play stars, got credit Tryna keep up, niggas can’t forget it He saving up for that old Montecarlo Red paint and guts like spaghetti