| Uh huh
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| Talk to em
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| It’s what hustlaz do
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| This is a hustaz song
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| This hustlaz gone
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| Let me tell you what this fellow like
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| Caught somewhere between stop and go like yellow lights (uh huh)
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| Hustlaz so I gotta get it mellow right
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| Down the block, around the clock, bezel like
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| I roll like cherry red jell-O dice
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| Watch, just the pot calling the kettle wife
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| It’s hot, just the block calling a ghetto wife
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| This Paul McCain is my ball and chain, mi amor
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| Hopefully I won’t fall and hang
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| Like pictures on the walls of halls of fame
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| It’s just a boy man, look at what it all became
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| Good and all, but look at what all remains
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| All the floor and thangs, marks from all the claws and fangs
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| The remarks from all of y’all that changed
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| Bustin' back at all of y’all like I trained
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| Apologizing to all of y’all I blamed
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| This is what hustlaz due
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| And you ain’t did it til a hustla do
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| And you ain’t know it til a hustla knew
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| And you ain’t done til a hustla’s through
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| I’m a customer too
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| This what hustlaz do
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| And you ain’t seen it til you seen it from a hustlaz view
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| Open your eyes, this a hustlaz song
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| God forgive if this hustlaz wrong
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| It’s bigger things so we Cosa Nostra
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| Striving to be number one til I overdose
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| I speak in there with a number tongue or the throat
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| Youngest son runnin' from, older quotes
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| Thou shall not sin, thou shall not steal, thou shall not kill
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| Thou shall not turn your back, on those in need
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| I try to flip, but these government switch
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| Keeps me at this chosen speed
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| I’m just a rose in weeds
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| And I rolls with reasons to stay on this road I lead
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| Til I leave with what I sow, my soul’s in these
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| Leave my son with the sum of what I sold in deeds
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| I’m folding y’all
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| Probably heading for the pin like bowling balls
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| Kept it directed at the pen and wrote it for y’all
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| This is what hustlaz due
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| And you ain’t did it til a hustla do
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| And you ain’t know it til a hustla knew
|
| And you ain’t done til a hustla’s through
|
| I’m a customer too
|
| This what hustlaz do
|
| And you ain’t seen it til you seen it from a hustlaz view
|
| Open your eyes, this a hustlaz song
|
| God forgive if this hustlaz wrong
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| It takes a lot of patience, when you takin' it on
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| A lot of pacing, a lot of makin' it known
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| I ain’t the nigga to be placin' it on, I was the king of this city
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| Now they replacin' the throne
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| I know it’s a lot of hatin' waitin' at home
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| And she ain’t waiting, you can hear the bass in her tone
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| Like she can’t make it alone, a broken home
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| And she either brace for the bones
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| All this from just embracin' the phone
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| A lot of ballin' up letters, a lot of erasing the poems
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| A lot of comin' to grips with the fact that you gonna be facing alone
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| All this time, all this time you was wrong
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| Through the whatever happens I got you
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| And when whatever that happens that happens
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| They was happy to drop you
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| No letters or shoes, no cheddar
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| You mom sold sweaters, she feels no better
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| This is what hustlaz due
|
| And you ain’t did it til a hustla do
|
| And you ain’t know it til a hustla knew
|
| And you ain’t done til a hustla’s through
|
| I’m a customer too
|
| This what hustlaz do
|
| And you ain’t seen it til you seen it from a hustlaz view
|
| Open your eyes, this a hustlaz song
|
| God forgive if this hustlaz wrong |