Twista - Get It How You Live Lyrics

Writer(s) : MITCHELL, CARL TERRELL / STORCH, SCOTT SPENCER
Artist: Twista Lyrics
Popularity : 38 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 4 on The Day After
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Double S, never less baby
Twista and Scott Storch in a dropped Porsche
That new ****, check it out

[Chorus: 2X]
My neck on bling, cris on chill
Standing on the corner steady, trying to make a mill
When it come to hustling, got to get it how you live
And I'm on the come up, so ********** how you feel

[Verse One]
My fingers on frost, ears on froze
Hanging at the club while hoes slide down the pole
Rolling with the Gs and the Foes and the Souls
With two *****es on my arms, sporting thousand dollar clothes
Looking kind of stunning, so the cameras on flick
Ain't no ************s out here that can do it like this
On top of my game, and when a hater's all fall
Imma be smiling, revealing my grill from Paul Wall
Shake it for me *****, let me see you get loose
Let me see you sipping on some **** that's 80 proof
Let me see if Imma let you get up in the 'lac
Bend over so I can see how Imma hit it from the back
I hustle wit the rhymes, but I'm better wit the keys
And I'm clubbin' wit the pees, I get cheddar wit the fees
I'm always on the hustle, so don't ask why I succeed
I got flows, I got dro, I got whatever u need

[Chorus: 2X]

[Verse Two]
Tires on shine, rims on gloss
When it come to mobbing, Imma **********ing boss
I stay making paper, behind the mic and on the tipping
I ain't stingy wit the dust, the whole crew ride slick
Think you shitting on the ***** t, I doubt that
My flow will make your booty move, like a house track
Have 'em at the party screaming, "Get the doe", "Get the doe"
And if I ever go broke, I guarantee to bounce back
If beats was like a tipper, then my flow would play the cane
Got **** to make you float off the floor, like David Blaine
You rich because I spit it universal to the drums
And I circle with some guns, blow out purple out my lungs
I pimp and **** a *****, I don't need to buy her 'lacs
I be on the move, staying paid pushing Cadillacs
Investing in my raps, if I don't make a quarter back
I throw eight balls to my homies, on the corners like quarterbacks

[Chorus: 2X]

[Chorus2: 2X]
Let me break your back shawty, show me what u got shawty
We some motherfuking killers, Chicago made *****z making figures

[Verse Three]
Teeth on bling, rolly on flick
Standing on the stage while I'm holding on my ****
Bout to spit a new verse off out the mobstaz new ****
Holla walla pop the colla on my new outfit
If you want war, you think you got rounds to come get me
I think you better go smoke a whole pound of that sticky
keep on talking that you're not hate around your committee
Imma dodge that ***** that put it down for the city

[Chorus: 4X]


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