murs
h-u-s-t-l-e
Everybody out here wanna be hustlers, man Buit they dont have any idea what I used to do I used to do anything imaginable A nigga like me was scared to go to jail So I'd use my brain and just think up the most outlandish shit Shit niggas would never do, I used to get dirty Now these niggas out here just be out here queer hustling Man these niggas got it all backwards I'm gonna show 'em how I used to do it  A lotta people wanna knock what we do on my block But we do what we do cause we ain't got a lot And you might get shot if your tounges not watched Casue dudes walk around with hand cannons in their crotch Fucking up the way they walk, stuck to the strip like scotch With the top notch Bosch that can cook clean rocks See times is too hard for us to ever go soft So the doc got me on prescription strength zoloft So I can deal with the stress and I won't go off But I'm on top, won't stop 'til the microphone drop Rollin' four deep in the Cut like, what? Hit you up and then roll off, we tryin' to get this dough boss We don't do diamonds cause my dudes ain't show offs Tryin' to keep it low so we don't see no cops Wanna blow up, but I don't wanna go pop Gotta blow up cause I can't let this dough stop  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie  I used to sell insense bottle 10 cents a dozen Hit the strip and make 'em flip for a dollar a sack Everyday before juinor high I bought a six pack And sold 'em for a buck a piece down by the track And I never sold crack, did aluminum cans Used to get laughed at by you and your mans But I never let it get, stay true to my plans I used it all for the studio (Now you understand) In the grocery store parking lot, like can I help you ma'am? To the car with those bags, used to run that old drag For a itty bitty tip, maybe a quarter or more And when I wasn't doing that I was knocking at your door Like, "May I speak to the head of the household?" Then give you the speech on how buying this candys keeping me out the Streets Cheap dirt hustles, no glorious tales, but it did keep my black ass from Going to jail And I'm a  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie  I can make a dollar out a dime when I hollar out a rhyme From the school of hard knocks, so a scholar of the grind Used to dub tapes myself, claim the quality was fine But it sounded like shit, lots of hits, hella static But for three plus two, them shits moved like magic That's five well spent for true hip-hop addicts And once they're friends heard it, then they all had to have it So I took it on the road with little to no baggage Just some draws and casettes, droppin' jaws with my sets Once they saw the live show they had to take a piece home Now I'm almost famous, used to be least known But not to big to walk the streets alone Stand in front of any venue witha box of cd's And these kids love me I stay DTE Down To Earth, and down to merch at any given moment If there's money on the block, then where am I, Cause I'm a  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie  H-U-S-T-L-E (Hustler!) You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie