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Rublow - Blow Muzik Lyrics



Rublow - Blow Muzik Lyrics




(Drum Dummie made the beat)

Baby, I been trappin' all day
And I ain't comin'
Inside 'til my money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler

Ballin' 'til the death of I
Standin' on these niggas neck and
Cuttin' off they air supply
Got too many hundreds
Got the fifties gettin' jealous now
Trap phone jumpin', stove runnin'
Got a pot like on every eye
Niggas talkin' smoke 'til we air 'em out
Pull up like delivery
And take 'em out like carry out
And they might just have to hate forever
I might never die
Ya Bigg blow Copped 10 of them thangs
Plug threw me six more
They say, "Rublow lost it all, " now
He winning again
God forgive me, 'cause I'm sinnin' again
Swore to God that I was
Done with that bitch, but
I done hit it again
Lot of sharks in this water, but
I'm swimming with slim and Birdman
Cash Money, it's a army, niggas hatin' hard
Man that shit gettin' annoyin'
If they change they attitude, then
I might employ 'em
Front that boy some work and if
He run off he's a goner (Blow)

Baby, I been trappin' all night
And I ain't comin' inside 'til
My money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler (Let's go)

Rublow Escobar, Big Rublow The Don
Got the work inside a Louis Vuitton
With like two or three broads
I came up off of movin' that rod
A made man mean I do what I want
We got everythin' from pounds to eight balls
Shop always open, no days off
Can call me anytime
I'm like jake from State Farm
These niggas, they be pussy
They play hard until I send them killers
In they yard like stray dogs
She say, "You ain't never got no time for me"
Baby, I'm a hustler, it's the grind for me
Niggas plottin', so
I got to keep that iron with me she say
"You f*ckin' other bitches and
You lyin' to me" but, she right
Think you come before this money? Bitch
Please nigga playin' with that work
And we gon' leave 'em swiss cheese
Up and let that sig squeeze
Who f*ckin' wit' me?
Big 'Blow got the streets on lock
(Cash Money nigga)

Baby, I been trappin' all day
And I ain't comin' inside 'til
My money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler

I keep bad bitches on me, Raf Simons on me
Lot of bosses in my entourage
And trap niggas only
I be ridin' through da city
Keep thay thang on me
Make ya bitch ride dick 'til her tank on, "E"
Niggas hate on me, but
I ain't worried 'bout nothin'
F&N hold twenty-four
The choppa hold a hundred
My hand on my fire, my mind on them hundreds
Addicted to the hustle, Goddamit, I love it

Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Drum Dummie made the beat)

Baby, I been trappin' all day
And I ain't comin'
Inside 'til my money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler

Ballin' 'til the death of I
Standin' on these niggas neck and
Cuttin' off they air supply
Got too many hundreds
Got the fifties gettin' jealous now
Trap phone jumpin', stove runnin'
Got a pot like on every eye
Niggas talkin' smoke 'til we air 'em out
Pull up like delivery
And take 'em out like carry out
And they might just have to hate forever
I might never die
Ya Bigg blow Copped 10 of them thangs
Plug threw me six more
They say, "Rublow lost it all, " now
He winning again
God forgive me, 'cause I'm sinnin' again
Swore to God that I was
Done with that bitch, but
I done hit it again
Lot of sharks in this water, but
I'm swimming with slim and Birdman
Cash Money, it's a army, niggas hatin' hard
Man that shit gettin' annoyin'
If they change they attitude, then
I might employ 'em
Front that boy some work and if
He run off he's a goner (Blow)

Baby, I been trappin' all night
And I ain't comin' inside 'til
My money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler (Let's go)

Rublow Escobar, Big Rublow The Don
Got the work inside a Louis Vuitton
With like two or three broads
I came up off of movin' that rod
A made man mean I do what I want
We got everythin' from pounds to eight balls
Shop always open, no days off
Can call me anytime
I'm like jake from State Farm
These niggas, they be pussy
They play hard until I send them killers
In they yard like stray dogs
She say, "You ain't never got no time for me"
Baby, I'm a hustler, it's the grind for me
Niggas plottin', so
I got to keep that iron with me she say
"You f*ckin' other bitches and
You lyin' to me" but, she right
Think you come before this money? Bitch
Please nigga playin' with that work
And we gon' leave 'em swiss cheese
Up and let that sig squeeze
Who f*ckin' wit' me?
Big 'Blow got the streets on lock
(Cash Money nigga)

Baby, I been trappin' all day
And I ain't comin' inside 'til
My money get right
Catchin plays 'til I'm tired
I been on the paper trail
If they lookin' for me
I'll be in the trenches with
A scale catchin' sales
Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler

I keep bad bitches on me, Raf Simons on me
Lot of bosses in my entourage
And trap niggas only
I be ridin' through da city
Keep thay thang on me
Make ya bitch ride dick 'til her tank on, "E"
Niggas hate on me, but
I ain't worried 'bout nothin'
F&N hold twenty-four
The choppa hold a hundred
My hand on my fire, my mind on them hundreds
Addicted to the hustle, Goddamit, I love it

Baby, I been hustlin' all day
With my tooly outside
And, I can't marry no bitch
I made that money my bride
F*ck, you good, but, can't love ya
'cause I'm committed to this paper
I'm a hustler
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: BRYAN WILLIAMS, DWAYNE CARTER, RUBEN JABAR LI JENKINS, TEVIN REVELS, TRISTAN G. JONES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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