Hustle

Lyrics

[Intro: Boss Hogg] On shit, shit Yeah, nigga, by any means necessary to get your bread Nigga [Verse 1: Boss Hogg] I'm 'bout to get it right, bubblin' all night Hustlin', man, that's most of my life Fuck Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'm out on the streets Stoppin' traffic, not worried about police And they punk sweeps, see, I got fronted the zip By my older cousin, and when he gave it he said this: "Shit, go carefully, be with it, slick You don't want a case to fight." "A'ight, I get it." To the track for scritch, now ain't this a bitch I damn near made it happen, but somebody was jealous And told I was crackin', but fuck it see They gotta live for workin' with police Laughin' at authorities, to hell with the station Plus, a shell to whoever gave Vallejo information Patient, who stay with his head achin' I'm up all night tryna right my bacon, hustle [Verse 2: B-Luv] And while my nigga Boss on the S-T straight hustlin' I'm networkin', still at your B and I'm bustin' And who I'm trustin'? Not nann nigga Hustlin' in a different form tryna get it bigger Mouthpiece so hard on a broad, no labor Hustlin', never playin' Captain Save-a- Hoe, you should know B-Luv ain't playin' Like a poodle, she obeyin' everything that I'm sayin' Enough of that, though; a million things goin' through my mind But I handle it like a soldier gettin' blapped at on the frontline Takin' all bullets, even shells My life's a big hustle and I'ma show and tell Never been materialistic, everything's for sale Beatin' 'em to the punch like Bill Gates for the mail Just like a crack fiend need blow, got to have it That's how I be, green in my face, got to grab it (Better have my dough, mayne) [Verse 3: Mac Dre] Me and my amigos, we seein' chips Come through dipped in European whips Beats slappin', we so mackish Giggin' in somethin' so throwbackish No practice, it's all on auto Old school dope game like Troops and Lottos Don't use the bottle but boy I'm dope Just like a 30 ought with the scope My niggas move more snow than ski slopes Y'all niggas is lame, don't know the ropes I don't know your folks, fuck 'em, they weenies My niggas jack saps, put holes in beanies Get it, get it, get it, eat it and shit it Every time I done it, they say he did it Mac Dre, keep a heater on me And touch more bread than salami [Verse 4: Husalah] Yo, yo, it's the motherfuckin' Husalah Husalah How could you make a song about hustlin' Without the Husalah, man, it's nothin' You're petty coat pushin', I'm 26 kickin' it Cross country strippin' it Pay me 25, I only pay one-sixth of it Dumb dewy fresh, yeah Trill shit, I'm livin' it, Mob 'til my death One, two, three, get your scrill right, nigga On the darkside of life, you'll find me, a dope dealer Husalah Husalah, a sideways leaner If I twist six off, I'ma bring back nina My 4-5 spark, your lights'll go dark And I still got work for cheap My hustle won't slack off until I get my smack off Pull my stog' out on a poor bitch and jack off I don't need sex, I need Tecs and 4-5's A motherfuckin' Husalah Husalah like WHA!