| VERSE 1: NECRO | 
| I was a thug paid off the illegal drug trade | 
| What you need? | 
| touch ya, cut ya jug with a blade | 
| Fuck the pig brigade, carry a nickel plate | 
| Try to vic me for a nickel, I’ll stick a sickle in your face | 
| Like Griselda Blanco, paid like Banco Popular | 
| Jewels like Zelda, default on your payments | 
| I’ll pop you pa, smooth like velvet | 
| Jet in the Bronco, pushing more rock than Gibraltar | 
| Trafficking, bitch you need Massengill | 
| Another balloon in your ass again, hash and krills | 
| Sell 'em to Ashton Kutcher lookalikes | 
| The fashion biz, Kardashian, cash hooker types | 
| Distribution, piss the putrid | 
| Piece of rubber out your pussy, bitch, before it’s polluted | 
| No time to shoot the shit, cause when you finish takin a shit | 
| Some motherfuckers gonna shoot it | 
| People get shot to shit over a hit | 
| You’re shot, you got a rock of coke on your beard (Hit it!) | 
| Like George Jung, with a bong | 
| No deposits, money in storage in closets, out the bung | 
| Skunk in your lungs, coke numb the tongue | 
| Plenty funds, pushin twenty tons in uranium drums | 
| From Panamanian slums, Ukrainian cum dumpster mules | 
| Transport in their rump, enema Tums | 
| CHORUS: NECRO | 
| I’m a Hustler, I ain’t sellin to you if I don’t trust ya | 
| If we suspect you, it’s the criminal custom | 
| To grab the musket and bust ya, that’s a true hustler | 
| Customs police would love to bust ya, ship you on a bus | 
| Lock you till you’re old with an ulcer | 
| Don’t snitch, cum guzzler, man with a vulva | 
| Shut the fuck up like a muffler, son, like Larry I’m a Hustler | 
| VERSE 2: KOOL G RAP | 
| G the king of strip sales, fish scale, brick mail | 
| My ship sail in bringin a Moby Dick whale | 
| All flavors, white, beige or beiger | 
| Freeze like anesthesia, Anastasia | 
| Of gram weighers, 100 percent Colombian handmade | 
| Acres of land, man labored | 
| Alaskan salmon have your heart beatin faster, damn it | 
| Got lines to blow your mind like grams packed in a cannon | 
| More ki’s of porgy, the raw be the door key | 
| To open up sluts, whores, be in an orgy | 
| From coffee grounds to get around authorities | 
| Never get bored of the bread or Boar’s Head cheese | 
| My red snapper’s the dead president head stacker | 
| Pots over red crackling flames, package of caine | 
| Let it strain on red napkins, fiends get fed the crackers | 
| Stay ahead of the fed crackers | 
| Swordfish is flawless, we lawless | 
| The strip got a D on it like Warwick, I can’t call it | 
| All I know is before my niggas do more bids | 
| One more pig to the morgue, shit get morbid | 
| I’m Morpheus, I morph to a warship | 
| Tap your top, get the message in Morse code | 
| Head wrapped like the Moors did on horses | 
| Seahorse come out a poor kid’s pores, kid | 
| CHORUS: NECRO | 
| I’m a Hustler, I ain’t sellin to you if I don’t trust ya | 
| If we suspect you, it’s the criminal custom | 
| To grab the musket and bust ya, that’s a true hustler | 
| Customs police would love to bust ya, ship you on a bus | 
| Lock you till you’re old with an ulcer | 
| Don’t snitch, cum guzzler, man with a vulva | 
| Shut the fuck up like a muffler, son, like Larry I’m a Hustler |