| Got a cheese sandwich on the hunnid spoke
|
| Pork rinds and a soda pop
|
| I told a cop I’d beat it, lost
|
| At 3 a.m., they told up «stop»
|
| We got it real real, to the top
|
| A G like 30 feet away from the county line
|
| The weed flyin, the golden smilin
|
| Wip it nice an then they sign
|
| Man, fuck
|
| How denyin' my damn luck
|
| This ain’t no find if we get stuck I’m doin time
|
| Don’t get messy with the Prezzy
|
| A quarter pound ain’t worth the rizzy
|
| Drunk as hell, then hurl the fifth
|
| Back an forth we swerve and dip
|
| Pumpkin pie
|
| Bust a cop
|
| I’ll be damned, they took my crop
|
| Shook 'em wit that lead foot an hit about a hunid fi (105)
|
| Miles per hour
|
| In the country wit the pudin, good an chunky
|
| 40 acre, mule an donkey, hell with that, just get the money
|
| Got to be that early bird
|
| To grind an get what I deserve
|
| Quick to burn an an can’t mesquite it
|
| Lord I need it fore the third
|
| Serve anybody? |
| Hell naw, got to be for sure
|
| Standin on the standard curb
|
| Days begin to bend an blurred
|
| Homegrown bacon
|
| Yeah, I’m havin the wage
|
| Tendency of a 50 hit, when its about gettin payed
|
| Came along with a ragin theif hidin under the shade
|
| An momma won’t quit buggin me about my heathenish ways
|
| Now I’ve wasted more tears then my mouth cold beer
|
| Gotta be a Man on these rolls, overcomin my fears
|
| Body too quick to gaze, with they head on bob
|
| Get dee, life is foul but the dirt is hard, yeah! |
| (hustla)
|
| If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)
|
| And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)
|
| If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)
|
| And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)
|
| Ain’t no tenth, 35%
|
| Dent in my hub caps, sticks in my dove sacks, fifth till I cuts that
|
| Look, my baby husband got to eat some mo
|
| Dough is what Im reachin fo
|
| Money low, need some mo
|
| Hustlin these streets alone
|
| Now everyday I work, 75
|
| A&R tellin me lies
|
| Fore I die, wanna drive big bodies wit bubbla die
|
| Now peep the otha side, ova them hills
|
| Rich dude that own them mills
|
| Tha candy sto is open for sale
|
| These junkies gone smoke it to death
|
| Money, hoes, clothes, auto-mobiles, gold grills
|
| No scrill, no deal, fifth weel, big grill
|
| Wood grain sturnweel, weigh it up, be still
|
| Lay it on the fish scales
|
| I’m assed out in the back seat of the Pont-i-ac
|
| Got a cup full of Con-i-ac
|
| Quarter out of hunny sacks
|
| Tell me get my money back
|
| Still broke, feel like I ain’t got shit to live fo
|
| So much to kill fo
|
| C’mon, this niggas transition, ain’t no use in sittin round wishin
|
| But my hands ichin, poppa need a new transmition
|
| Get my grind on, hustle that bustle to make my grip in any time zone
|
| Bundle that bubble, lets make it split
|
| We buy: peices, ounces, keys, weed, Xs, Zs
|
| Nigga, please, anything you ask fo, we got what you need
|
| To these college degrees we applyin to streets, cause I’m a (hustla)
|
| If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)
|
| And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)
|
| If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)
|
| And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)
|
| Hustla. |
| Carry many meanings.
|
| Whether you a crook in them books
|
| Whether you usin your mind or usin a 9
|
| Bootleg alcohol, or runnin the ball
|
| You must get it in. You was born a hustla
|
| An you a die a hustla. |
| Prophit, hit 'em wit it
|
| I pause and refine a mighty floss, et cetera
|
| For life in a ballance, of it
|
| Lyin an shinin a beddy ro
|
| I gotta be worse than a hust fa mine (I mean)
|
| If I don’t crush it then I’mma bust the 9
|
| I tell ya dog, get on the blocks in over-alls, its over y’all
|
| Wit all dem boys stay hot, said if we blow out finna go a billion time
|
| Ya know me dog, neva be a oldie dog
|
| My state of mind’s on the grind like a eighths of raw
|
| Dont go trickin 'em all, I’mma have you bust for all my yiggas
|
| Live for the days so we can hustle 'em all, aww!
|
| What? |
| What? |
| What? |
| Aw! |
| Aww! |