We Hustle – Big Tymers feat B.G., Juvenile, and Turk
{Juvenile}
Listen,
It’s a fresh package I got – why not move it
Keepin’ it in the house ‘ll have the Feds locked to it
Business as usual is goin’ on in the slums
We want the whole cake, n_gga – we don’t want no crums
Stupid sh_t – we avoid it
Dope – we exploit it
Had our sh_t tight b_tches done destroyed it
Now n_ggas gettin’ out lookin’ for employers
Made a deal with the D.A. and the lawyer
Swearin’ he would never tell – put it on his daughter
Sayin’ he was outta town – n_gga crossed the border
Should’ve bust his head, but I don’t need the heat
I’ll send another n_gga out to handle beef for me
It’s a test ’cause I’ve been given him a ki a week
Let me see what they gon’ do up on the streets for me
And if he hand me his business, I’ma make sure he’s straight
The only n_gga out the project Magnolia with weight
{Hook – Turk}
N_gga, we hustle hustle everyday, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N_gga try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers – they surely don’t play
We hustle hustle everyday, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N_gga try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers – they surely don’t play
{B.G.}
Started out with a seven-gram quarter, flipped to half-a-ounce
Tryin’ to keep clothes on my daughter and food in her mouth
It don’t stop from sun-up to sun-down – I’m on the grind
In two weeks I was workin’ a 16-25
Tryin’ to get it – only thing in my vision is ballin’
Jumpin’ out a 500-S class on brodders
So you only had a nickel like me hustlin’ hard
‘Fore I knew I was workin’ four ounces and two quarters
Not a taker I’m scarred from (? ?)
Swore he was gon’ front just bringin’ his sh_t
Now I got a quarter ki – broke it down to six and two quarters
It’s cooked already – I got these n_ggas runnin’ like water
Slowly, I’m comin’ up – scorin’ a ounce since fronted nine
Had this n_gga – only said what they workin’, the block is mine
Got hustlin’ skills in my blood – come from my pa
That’s how I know the game ’cause at a young age I was taught
{Hook2x – Turk}
We hustle hustle everyday, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N_gga try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers – they surely don’t play
{Baby}
Brother, you my hustler, and K.C. my killer
Michael, (?), Curl, y’all lay back and peep these n_ggas
Dubbed all and wide open (whatever) whatever, my n_gga
Big (?) grab the glock out to shoot, my n_gga
Then if it go down, I know you’re ridin’, n_gga
But it’s cool – I lost some hot boys, my n_gga
But I’m a fool untamed by the children in this game
Tre, go grab them things, we gon’ get paid, man
Joe Casey know a n_gga wan’ buy some things
I start in the hood, I keep it real with my goods
Lac, hurry up back, I know a n_gga wan’ buy some crack
Smack a whole brick on that b_tch when it come back
Stone, you play the cuts and watch my back
Magnolia Shorty, take these stacks and meet me at the shack
I’m ’bout to go to a car lot on veterans, black
And buy that new black-on-black 2G Cadillac
{Hook – Turk}
N_gga, we hustle hustle everyday, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N_gga try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers – they surely don’t play
We hustle hustle everyday, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N_gga try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers – they surely don’t play
{Mannie Fresh}
What
What
What
Remember when sh_t was a easy task
Back in the days that passed
When b_tches use to cut class
Just to let a dumb n_gga hit that ass
Now everything f_cked up
Sure virgin p_ssy gon’ cost you a-hundred bucks
N_gga, that use to be the man sh_t outta luck
Young n_ggas walkin’ ’round with that duck
Some say, “Play with your nose.”
Some say, “F_ck them hoes.”
Some say, “You’re fat. Work out and get a six-pack.”
I say, “F_ck all that, I’d rather have six facts.”
Young n_ggas done drove me to pack a heater
F_ck drawin’ up the meat beaters
They tryin’ to defeat us
Move us out and delete us
Erase us n_ggas from the face of the earth
Put your d_ck in the dirt
No how, no way, daddy, it won’t work
I refuse to be a statistic
DNA ballistic
With a closed casket
‘Cause some young n_gga blasted my brains on the side
Lil’ daddy, I’ma swing wide and let everything out here feel me
You ain’t gon’ do it – old age gon’ kill me
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