Testo All the Time - Mr. Capone-E
Testo della canzone All the Time (Mr. Capone-E), tratta dall'album No Regrets
It was all a dream, I used to read low-rider magazines
Murdered dogs, subscribing and his little team, county jail, fuck what you say, dawg?
Tryna come up in this land of fucking smug, vision blurry, but focus on the golden well
Remember getting a spanking with a rubber belt, hard times, but my mama I'ma make it
Fucking had a fine, baby, sitting for a paycheck
Now I'm on top of the world, 30 hundred for lunch, diamonds and pearls, cash in what pussy
You know, you know, fuck looking backwards, I ain't going broke
10K a show, Ritz Carlton suite, chauffeur, limo, briefcase, son of the seat
Ralph Lauren shirts, Hugo Boss cologne, getting money wired cause I'm on microphone
In a twilight zone, at a staple center, four seat posted up like a mother fucking mayor
Players, we counting on blessing, allergic to haters, still reminiscing
As a young lad, try to do good because Capone is going to be a dad
And money is going to come in stacks, yes pay me, fuck you when you love our band
I got to hustle all the time, making money steady, rising on the grind
Motherfuckers haters get away, come back, get blasted like a layaway
These streets are mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That game is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That ride is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
Lord T for life, (it's a hustle, hustle)
I'm a gangster with a record deal, my money comes in envelopes fully sealed
Rain checks, get your ass tossed, don't flap your fins, you ain't in with a shark
Talk woke, that ain't our language, it's like telling an Asian to speak Spanish, no say
Ain't trying to hear that, so bring the mansions, and bring the make-backs and bring the bottles
Your best models, Persians, Armenians, the good, the mallow, Al Pacino or some Scarface shit
I mean it or win it, printing money, that's legit
As a young hog, creeping out the block like Snoop Doggy Dogg
And money's my motivation, you can kiss my ass, fuck probation
I got to hustle all the time, making money steady, rising on the grind
Motherfuckers haters get away, come back, get blasted like a layaway
These streets are mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That game is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That ride is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
Lord T for life, (it's a hustle, hustle)
I'm on my clock and I'm chiefing, 2013,fuck all the beef and stacking
Why you pretending to act crazy, that's more than hating, leaving for the 90s
Tiny locals ain't feeling that steel, just bought my little homeboy a kilo
The other homeboy regal with a loaded tech, hammer business, a fish, you got game for the vets
Now I'm on some major business, on the streets, making more than a dentist
Look short, it's ripped, custom lube, on some new shit, still bombing some oldies
And we're getting paid, money over bitches, like every single day
While suckers keep chasing the rats, meaning I'm a gangster, brah, brah, brah
I got to hustle all the time, making money steady, rising on the grind
Motherfuckers haters get away, come back, get blasted like a layaway
These streets are mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That game is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
That ride is mine, (it's a hustle, hustle)
Lord T for life, (it's a hustle, hustle)
Credits
Writer(s): Wayne P. Walker, Mel Tillis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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