Hustlers Convention

Lyrics

This record is dedicated to Kool Herc Rrrrhh! [Spoken Exchange] Three-card monte is the name of the game, we play in New York but it was made in Spain. Who said red like the rooster head? You pick the red you get all my bread, black you get no money back. Who see the red like that? It's the one in the middle Alright, my friend you got the red so you get all the bread, you see black you get no money back. We gonna try it again my friend 'til it has no end because the red card you win, the black card you lose, it all depends on the card that you choose. Alright, ten to get you twenty, twenty gets you forty, forty gets you eighty, then you can go out and get you a lady Well I paid forty man I need a pretty lady Okay it's the red card you win, the black card you lose. You see the hand is quicker than the eye so you must follow my hand my friend and not the card, how much you win? It's that one right there Okay, that's black you get no money back, get my money [?], no man you cheated me! [?] I could never cheat because I can't repeat the hands that you see You get nothing! Nothing! It was a full moon in the middle of June In the summer of '79 I was young and cool and shot a bad game of pool And hustled all the chumps I could find Well now they called me Sport cause I pushed a boss short And loved all the women to death I partied hard and packed a mean rod And could knock you out with a right or a left I had learned to be cool while playing hooky from school At the tender age of nine And by the time I was eleven I could pad-roll seven And down me a whole quart of wine I was making it a point to smoke me a joint At least once during the course of a day And I was snorting scag while other kids played tag And my elders went to church to pray I've pitched pennies and downed bennies And played the horses at the track I've won at cards against tremendous odds And my favorite game was Blackjack I seldom lost cause my game was so boss I mean I had my shit down pat And I was running through freaks eight days a week 'Cause that's where my heart was at Yes I was a down stud's dream, a hustler supreme There wasn't no game that I couldn't play And if I caught a dude cheating, I would give him a beating And I might even blow him away! Stick-ups, muggers, drugs, in the ghetto I grew up running wild, I wanted to be public enemy number one! Little kids used to want to be like me but I always told them: "Kid, if you live like me, you die like me" I made so much money I didn't know what to do I bought everything and everybody I wanted And when I got it I just used and abused it And that goes to show That sometimes wanting is better than having: You want it, you got it! Yo, yo, who got it good? Yo, I got it. I got joints, nickels, dimes, half-ounces, ounces, pounds, what you want? cocaine? I got twenty-fives, fifties, grams, eighths, quarters, ounces, kilos, what you want? dust? acid? I's got ups, downs, 'ludes, speed, dope, mescaline, what you want, man, what you want? Yo, you think I can get a loose joint? Oh, man... All you want? We took a hundred seventy-two grand Between me and my man And we was ready to retire for the rest of the day But just when we was about to split Four stick-up kids and Grit Had plans on takin all our money away So then I fire five rounds And two dead bodies hit the ground And I felt two slugs strike my bulletproof vest And all that Grit would get Was a bullet hole on his neck To match the one I had blasted in his chest Me and Spoon fled the scene And they chased us in a limousine 'Til they that realized some cats was chasing them and us And them the flashing lights on top Told us all that it were the cops With the intentions of making a bust I gave Spoon the vest And fired shots at the rest On the hopes that Spoon could get free But the cops shot him in the face And hit me twice below the waist And then they started beating the hell out of me When I came to I was all black and blue In the hospital ward in jail I was handcuffed to the bed With a belly full of lead And a two hundred thousand dollar bill When I went to see the judge The man's eyes didn't budge He just looked me in my face and said this here He said: "Boy, all you gonna be is a menace to society, and that's why we gon' sentence you to the electric chair" Before I was dead and my eyes popped out my head I realized what type of petty hustler I had been Because the real hustlers steal billions From the unsuspecting millions That's programmed to think they can win