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Tytuł: Hang out and hustle

  • Wykonawca: Naughty By Nature
  • Wy¶wietleń: 208

  
   The C R U D D Y the C L I C K
  It's texture pure terror a street professor aggressor scale and measure
  clever compressor stretching salary stacks be running blocks as a
  factory
  structure capture the raw product I manufacture fracture critic chatter
  nigga catcher as I blast a cop matter capsule shatter scatter midnight
  disasters clips I rather gather then flip for what I'm after now and
  forever money makes things better at a regular gets me jewelry, bitches,
  bankcards, cars and competitors proposed threats wreck necks and puff ya
  puzzled see trouble muzzles when I hang and hustle.
  
  Booda Bop, Boom, Bam, Bink, Bick Bow Bookow, Ratatat, Klack Klick, Klick
  Kow, Klick Kow put brains with muscle. Hear a crew of guys utilize they
  skills. Bang out hang out slang out work and hustle. Flip techniques
  over
  boogie bangin' beats. A street fleet with Moet, dank and freaks in
  twenty separate suite I'm servin' dope lyrics holding weight, just like
  Chris Webber a warrior from Golden State, and I conjure up raps I bet
  you
  don't know any they be hitting like that brick that smacked Reginald
  Denny.
  Collects cash n' checks on a jet to meet the next client as I arrive at
  L.A.X.
  
  I'm up early so I catch my phlegm spit step then stash the stem 10 clips
  in ten shit bottles are sectioned in wit a clip thick a block stocked
  wit
  protection see X again tools ta fry and unified like Mexicans but if
  shit
  is slow in comin' a fiend that's one thing thats when you see twenty
  niggas running to one fiend.
  Yo black tops I got that yellow high for hours buy from me now or next
  time I swear I'll sell you flour I got dreams of getting a 98 or a Caddy
  living fatty plus I got a little man calling me daddy my lady and little
  man they need me and I need 'em I gotta see em and please 'em but first
  of
  all clothe & feed 'em so we can see freedom even if I jeopardize my time
  and life while I'm in this game I'm making sure that mine is right from
  the beginning to the end its dividend to the end so I like to hang out
  and
  hustle wit my friends.
  
  Well it's Friday night and the weekend's here. All that partying shit
  must take a seat to the rear.
  Instead of fuckin' wit those phony ghetto chicks I'd rather be movin' my
  clips with my homies on the bricks my fingers stay hard. My hands stay
  full of ash. My fingenails stay dirty that's from burying my stash.
  Fiends are bummin', money's comin' to say the least, but I'm out there
  flippin' clips feeding the belly of the beast. It's first of the month
  money's comin all day all night and too many going for theirs I'm
  cuttin'
  sales off with my bike. Now with my niggaz in session we freestyle
  rhyme.
  Reminiscing moving that shit 20's of clips at a time