Too Short: If your a real hustler your sure to get rich.
Chorus: This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh Ohh, come on, come on
Too Short:
I make money like a motherfucker It ain't no thang to me $hort Dog in the house spittin game wit Breed Ain't no bust partner, that's the thrid week I'm going to pimp these hoes, they can't work me How the hell you think I get to ride a B-12? The phone and TV ended with a green smell I went from Oakland to Atlanta with my top down $hort Dog, my shit is nation wide now You can ask Breed or Pac it don't stop I ain't bull shittin make a mill when I rock Three players in the game and it's a major Bitch you wanna get me better hit me on my pager Today I'm on the westcoast Tommorrow I'm in Texas Flip the Benz and Farri, sold the Lexus $horty drop the bass in the mix You know what's next beitch I'm sure to get rich
Chorus: This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh Ohh, come on, come on
2Pac:
Haha I'd be the thuggin ass outlaw Til my fuckin casuct drops Fuck around and make me blast on these bastard cops
This is for the hustlaaaaas
Believe me coming stapped with the gak When you see me Label me a threat to society, but I ain't quitin Thug life motherfucker ain't no bull shittin Born in these projects destined to fate Collecting mail on these broke bitches Slanging that game Now shit done changed It ain't the the same I ain't lyin niggas are dyin Three strikes have you motherfuckers flyin In the penatentary or in the cemetary Gettin high no need to worry Last year niggas knockin up the block and in between shots Pumpin tapes from that nigga Breed and Pac This year bringin you the fix Including Ant Banks in the mix We're sure to get rich Still I ride.
Chorus: This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh Ohh, come on, come on
MC Breed:
I'm a cold-hearted fool I mean a fool at heart, head strong and I won't be headed home if he falls apart Conatact niggas like a part time When I ride the beat Ain't no way to hide from the darkside Man of many mens till the very end and blend in and change my iden Just to mix up with the game They know me by the Breed and they don't know it's my last name It's mind over matter I don't mind, you don't matter Pull a glock and watch the whole block scatter and we can have us a gak to gak talk Do it old style and do a back to back walk Count to ten and say goodbye to your friends and we can put the bull shit to an end I figure if he plays around he lays around and he's a motherfucker ?????? calls a corner when I'm around Bodies are buried and found all around and parish and charish and thoughts just to be true Punk, fellas behave ya and it just might save ya So guard your girl and pickup your pistol cause you can't get wit Breed the weed head lyrical nit wit The shit won't change as long as I'm alive I gotta survive and keep it tight
Chorus: This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh This is for the hustlaaaas, come on This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh Ohh, come on, come on Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
