| Nigga wanna hustle
|
| Nigga wanna sell dope where we grow up nigga
|
| Ride with me and learn something nigga
|
| If not — stay away my playground nigga
|
| Yeah! |
| — this shit right here is for real hustle niggas
|
| Real street niggas — y’all follow me
|
| Squared niggas — kick back and listen how is shit really go
|
| Uh!
|
| Cabbage work hoes goes spoke and pistols
|
| Last in getting away hearin whistles
|
| Scopin down map gestural back full of chips
|
| A hot ass scraps ski mask and two in the clips
|
| Scoop on 'em motophone let 'em know it’s on
|
| I pack use 'em draws homeboy — nigga we goners
|
| Beep on 'em Mexican though — we won’t work
|
| No Baking Soda slides twenty on 'em for the dirt
|
| Got 'em — strap on 'em my shell with ducktapes
|
| See nervous — while the Greyhouse escpae across Interstate
|
| Jumpin up in the friendly scotia down chicken weight
|
| For the work show up — and really do — be straight
|
| They pull up bread all the lookin flawless us a show dog
|
| Twenty bird and rally car like she a mother law
|
| Damn! |
| — she'll need no duck the law
|
| Bitch got us switch walkin with the work like motherfuck the law
|
| That’s the shit nigga ball fo'
|
| How they dope that they wall fo'
|
| Jumpin on ' em hoes
|
| They floss the hoes
|
| We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
|
| With the funk kick — wishin y’all holy copy with those
|
| Banged out, thanged out — everybody hangin' out
|
| Whole crews anybody sayin we bust used
|
| Go back — blast the gas about to shootin' us
|
| For cabbage work hoes and hundred fo’s
|
| Now in the N and N.Y. talkin' to why dies with the bitch
|
| And some load ki’s me insider
|
| It’s now and never — turn back why should we
|
| Let’s turn this bitch upside down (how could we)
|
| First to be unnoticed — I don’t trust that bitch
|
| She fine — but she mixed with rat the lil snitch
|
| I don’t feel right I know crass bustin bust pipe
|
| And the fed I had up on punk ass snitch all night
|
| Where we better do — is send that bitch to the?
|
| Take the ki’s to the rally car and get that bitch the cap
|
| She go be mad about it cause she getting cut out
|
| But just let it know her job is done (bitch butt out)
|
| Why we here for? |
| — (nigga we here paper chasin')
|
| Okay then — well let’s made this put reservatoins
|
| Bust — train or even train station
|
| If you got motophone we can start this operation
|
| That’s the shit nigga ball fo'
|
| How they dope that they wall fo'
|
| Jumpin on 'em hoes
|
| They floss the hoes
|
| We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
|
| With funk kick wishin' y’all holy copy with those
|
| Banged out, thanged out — everybody hangin' out
|
| Whole crews anybody sayin' we bust used
|
| Go back — blast the gas about to shootin' us
|
| For cabbage work hoes and hundred hoes
|
| Now I’m the KING OF ROCK — for my work
|
| One time shoot the block I did my sack about the dirt
|
| Like a dream team — both feams tryin' around me like impressed
|
| Takin' fifth G horse and spork the dope 'port
|
| Like a hell is seen hot for shit — I ain’t trippin'
|
| Got folks in the bushes with the chop chop — so I ain’t slippin'
|
| None of these out of town C’s and Beems
|
| Niggas playin 'em gueens street they never seen the pontrees
|
| Hobbed on the plane — I’m back on stinky greens
|
| And Inglewood floss and faded the whole scene
|
| 1−0 back Ol' T — dope grindin'
|
| Fresh gear, big wheels, jewels shinnin'
|
| So I hit Shall Sunday — watchin' with low-low's hot
|
| Me and my N.O. |
| partners — on the strippin' new drops
|
| Bentleys, Warreys, Benzes, Hummers
|
| With none full of fall for the next twenty Summers
|
| That’s the shit nigga ball fo'
|
| How they dope that they wall fo'
|
| Jumpin on 'em hoes
|
| They floss the hoes
|
| We carry choppers stole us on homies with calicos
|
| With the funk kick wishin' y’all holy copy with those
|
| Banged out, thanged out — everybody hangin' out
|
| Whole crews anybody sayin' we bust used
|
| Go back — blast the gas about to shootin' us
|
| For cabbage work hoes and hundred fo’s
|
| And there you have it — that’s how it go
|
| From top to bottom — half heart, half money nigga
|
| Oh — don’t get it fucked up
|
| I still got money for my first trip out of town
|
| Haha… you dig! |