| Yea, I need you, I need you to hate
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| So I can use you for your energy
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| you know, its real shit, feel this!
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| America’s got a thing for this gangsta’s shit, they love me Black Chucks, black skullies, leather Pelle-Pelle
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| I take spills over raymo shit, I’ma fan
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| Got through the silver duck tape on my trait old handle
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| The women on my life bring confusion shit
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| SO like Nino from New Jack, I’ll have to cancel that bitch
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| Look at me, this is the life I chose
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| Niggaz around me so cold, man my heart dun froze up I build an empire on the low the narc’s don’t know
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| I’m the weatherman, I take that coco leaf and make that snow
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| Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the door
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| O after O, you know, homey I’m just triple beam, dreamin
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| Niggaz be schemin, I’m fiendin to live a good life
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| The fiends just fiendin
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| Conceal my weapon nice and easy so you can’t see
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| The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me I want the finer things in my life
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| So I hustle (hustle)
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| Nigga you get in my way when while I’m tryin to get mine
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| And I’ll buck you (buck you)
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| I don’t care who you run with, or where you from
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| Nigga fuck you (fuck you)
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| I want to find the thing thats in my life
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| So I hustle (hustle)
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| Yea, I don’t know shit about gymnastics I summersault bricks
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| Black talents start flyin, when a nigga flip
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| I cook crack in the microwave, niggaz can’t fuck with me Man my cold days, they called me chef boy are 50
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| Check my logic, smokers don’t like seeds in their weed shit
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| Send me them seeds i’ll grow 'em what they need
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| Them ain’t chia pet plants in the crib thats chronic
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| And I’m sellin them 500 a pop god damn it I sold everythin I’ma hustler, I know how to grind
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| Step on grapes put in water and tell you its wine
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| If you analyze me, what you’ll find is the DNA recrock
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| What goes in my mind, its contagious
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| Hypnotic, it sounds melodic
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| If the rap was the block or spider, I’ll be poke and butter
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| Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key
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| And you can locate me where ever that dope be, gettin money man
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| Its a hustler’s ambition, close your eyes listen, see my vision
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| Mossberg pumpin, shotgun dumpin and drama means nothin
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| It’s part of the game, catch me in the coupe switchin lanes
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| In the jewels with your chains
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| I upgrade from 30 BS to clean VS
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| Rocks that I copped procedes from the spot
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| I got the energy to win, I’m full of adrenaline
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| Played it perf and get nauseous, watchin the spinner spin
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| I make plans to make it, a prisoner of the state
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| Now I can invite yo ass out to my estate
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| Them holi tip bent me up, but I’m back in shape
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| Pour Crystal in the blender and make a protein shake
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| I’m like the East coast number one playboy B Hugh Hefner’ll tell you he don’t got shit on me The feds watch me, icey they can’t stop me Racist, pointin at me look at the nigga ratchi
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| Hello! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hustler's Ambition , by - 50 Cent. Song from the album Best Of 50 Cent, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп