Hustler, word, I pull the trigger long,
Grit my teeth, spray till every nigga’s gone.
Got my block sewn, armored dope spots,
Last thing I sweat’s a sucka punk cop.
Move like a king when I roll, hops,
You try to flex, bang, another nigga drops.
You gotta deal with this cause there’s no way out,
Why? Cash money ain’t never gonna play out.
I got nothin to lose, much to gain,
In my brain, I got a capitalist migraine.
I gotta get paid tonight, you muthafuckin right.
[something] my grip, check my bitch, keep my game tight.
So many hos on my jock, think I’m a movie star.
Nineteen, I got a fifty thousand dollar car.
Go to school, I ain’t goin for it,
Kiss my ass, bust the cap on the Moet.
Cause I don’t wanna hear that crap,
Why? I’d rather be a New Jack—–Hustler

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