Yeah.
Ah.
Ice D back in that ass, return it real.
Yeah.
Motherfuckers faking in front like they don't know what time it is.
Represent my nigga represent.
Niggas on the streets ain't really got a motherfucking choice,
motherfucker.
The niggas is forced to do dirt.
Yeah.
The niggas is forced to do dirt.
Go on, hustle.
Don't try to make a front.
Go on, hustle.
Only with real niggas who wear golden jewels,
diamond rings strapped with tools.
I take no shorts because I've been in it for the long one,
the strong one.
Got to tell the truth.
Your hat.
My niggas is on the run.
Street giant defiant to the laws that the white man made.
Nigga, that's why we play nigga.
A.K.A.
the street hustle from the Westside.
You damn fly.
Too much finesse for the who ride.
I'd rather take a more smooth because the skill of a
hustler is to stick and move and make you say damn.
This thing got to give a nigga props because the kid got game.
Mad game.
I base my hustle not on strength,
but you say the liquor store.
I say Brent's because my mind's on the massive role of the dice.
The magnitude of my games insane.
Precise.
Niggas do dirt.
A born hustler.
Niggas don't try to move.
Hustler.
Niggas do dirt.
A born hustler.
So niggas is forced to do dirt.
So now you're mad because I got money and you don't.
The hustlers win.
The busters won't.
What can I say?
You can't come out and play with the real ones.
Niggas you'll get broke with the quickness.
I don't gamble.
I cheat when it's on two keys on the table.
Two in my palm and if I spill I pull the nigga 25 strap.
Then the place gets flat and then I'm out the
back with my niggas in them foes on things.
And if I really want to force,
I flex my Bentley wings.
Damn.
Over your head.
Got a problem keeping lyrics down the
earth so normal niggas can solve them.
But the game's extreme.
So with your hobbies and increase the light.
Now, can you see me?
Your mic,
if you ever been to jail or shot,
so rocks.
I'm talking about way down like moving keys and pounds.
But every nigga in the hood ain't fly.
Light skin or dark than 90% marks.
Drake Vicks and they got money to give.
And without them,
tell me how the hell a hustler live.
So niggas is forced to do dirt.
A straight hustler.
So niggas is forced to do dirt.
So don't front nigga.
So niggas is forced to do dirt.
A straight hustler.
So niggas is forced to do dirt.
I got no love for a name.
I use my strategy from crack to rap.
No shame.
And now instead of cookies and keys,
I'm flipping million dollar bottles.
Call them whack MCs. But suckers got it twisted.
They missed it.
Wasting their life when you're they mentally gifted.
The streets ain't the only * hustle in town.
You got to get in where you fit and got to stay way down.
But a buster is a bust up a life.
He makes excuses why his ass ain't paid.
That *'s play.
Cash rules everything around me kid.
I hit at least a thousand licks and never did no bid.
Cause I'm bent on the come up and my * stays tight.
How many fake gangster rappers will I hear tonight?
It don't matter cause the real don't care.
You know I'm going to get mine.
So I'm going to let him get theirs.
But I know when the heart flips true.
So if you listen very closely,
maybe you will too.
My mind's blown off my mind in suits.
I made medallions, B. John boots.
Cristal and steak shrimp big as your hand.
I bought a silk robe and it's from Cyan.
This gym's full of hoods and thugs.
Pimps and hoes.
The slang is the drugs.
Hustlers and thieves.
Cunts and crooks.
Bookies and sharks.
Motherfuck the marks, nigga.
The straight hustlers.
So don't front, nigga.
The straight hustlers.