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    (feat. Butch Cassidy, Don Cisco, Nino Brown, Russell Lee, Mr. Kee)

    [Mr. Kee:]
    Yeah
    Hustler's theme
    Worldwide
    Come on

    [Hook: Mr. Kee]
    All money ain't good money
    Stack your chips
    Let it flip like some hood money
    Cock them rims
    Let 'em spin on them haters, man
    And all the players
    Worldwide, do your thug thang (The hustler's theme)
    All money ain't good money
    Stack your chips
    Let it flip like some hood money
    Cock them rims
    Let 'em spin on them haters, man
    And all the players
    Worldwide, do your thug thang

    [Pre-Verse: Baby Bash]
    I take a slow beat (Slow beat)
    And spit a hard rap (Hard rap)
    Pobre, I ain't retarded, you know we off that (Off that)
    From the west, my brother, to the east
    Back down
    To the diggy dirty for sherzy (What the feezy?)

    [Pre-Verse]

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    [Verse 1: Baby Bash]
    Now I walk around like I got a rock in my sock
    When it's just a limb, from this money right in my pocket
    Pimp
    I know you smell it cause it's gettin' you naucious
    Cause the shit I'm layin' on this track is Brown as the Foxy's
    I'm the done dealer
    Don Dadda, fresh out of Guatemala
    Some say, "Bash, you the shit"
    In Spanish, I'm the dada
    It's the million dollar Mexi, the mack, God he done bless me
    Girls wanna caress me, like I'm Elvis Presley

    [Chorus: Russell Lee]
    It don't stop
    Straight to the top til the game lock
    You know I gotta rep for my hood and my block
    Stackin' up my bread, make me stand a little taller
    Collectin' my winnings without punching no glocks
    The game's gettin' hard, so I gotta get smarter
    Watching out for cops, cause my homies got knocked
    Drought seas in our cheer, but my pocket's ain't starvin'
    That's why I stay chargin'
    You know we won't stop

    [Verse 2: Don Cisco]
    This is for my heavyweighters
    Pullin' strings like elevators
    Where my ops in full swing, I'll be standing on top of skyscrapers
    Seventy stories or more
    Eventually the public'll
    Know my story, fa' sho
    Make a household
    Name out of Don Cisco
    Go from a hustler
    Born and grind, tryin' to find some dough
    To the billion dollar
    Boy club
    Mexicali thug style
    I got
    Money to get back, I'm fresh off the drug drought
    FED's couldn't stop me, head shots didn't pop me
    Wouldn't lock, never got me, I'm the same player, still cocky
    Bossed out
    Hoppin' out of the drought
    Lookin' flossed out, everything chopped, even the crop
    Believe I'm the don, listen, everything I'm breathing on
    Represent west side til the rider in me's dead and gone
    Me and Bash do things
    Butch Cassidy, sing
    Let 'em know it's all know, the cash prestine
    Come on

    [Bridge: Butch Cassidy]
    Ain't nobody gonna stop me now
    I'm gonna do everything I can
    And ain't nobody gonna stop my flow
    You gonna hear me from coast to coast
    But
    Somebody's gonna make me mad
    And I'm a take everything they have
    So put it all in the past
    And do it so quick, so fast

    [Hook]

    [Verse 3: Nino Brown]
    Homeboy
    I got the grid locked
    That good yatch, gone breezes
    And they serve rock
    Some motherfuckers can't caught blocks
    Trey hop
    Roley bezel for you got swapped
    You like spider monkey, Nino Brown's sasquatch
    Them little haters, they be tickling me
    Brush 'em off, like the dust, on my Stacy, homie
    Once again, it's that motherfuckin' Mexican with attitude
    Paid my dues
    Steady, grindin' through the avenues
    Dogder blue, homie
    The city that I represent
    Los Scandulous, city where my homies did
    Fuck a fed
    Keep 'em Presidential stacked up
    Hear what I said, little soldiers gettin' taxed up
    Back the fuck up, move, biotch
    Get out the way
    You know the set, holmes
    And my
    A. stompin'
    Walkin' in my big brown boots
    Flossin'
    Stankin' eagle, that's my roots
    Motherfucker

    [Chorus]

    [Verse 4: Mr. Kee]
    Now put your money where your mouth is, anybody who doubt this
    Wherever you see the westside, that's probably where the south is
    United like a gang truce, khakis pants and house shoes
    But out in the Yay, it's throwbacks, beanies and bulletproof
    Spinners in their mouthpiece, heat up, and the old school
    Funk jump, no questions asked, ride like we supposed to
    Up in my city, see the bridge and the fall
    Know where the place on earth to be, than where this real turn off
    I'm smashing off a side show, but money must come first
    This ain't no overnight choice, I'm been a hustler since birth
    They call me Mr. Kee, the Latin boss
    Latin king, Latin don
    Spittin' like the Latin play, tryin' to put his Latins on
    And they say money is the root of all evil
    But there ain't nothing in this world to make me cross up my people
    I swear to God, I'll be a soldier til I'm six in the dirt
    My Henny bottle in my casket and a fist full of words
    The hustler's theme

    [Chorus]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Francisco Soto, Juan Carlos Oliva, Butch, Young Sinatra, Baby Bash, Happy y Nino Brown

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