I'm a Hustler

Pimp C

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    [Intro - sung in Mayfield falsetto]
    I stay paid and, I like blades
    Old shcool cars and, lovin Maze
    I've got hoes (I've got hoes) I can show
    Gettin money a-, ridin Rolls (ridin Rolls)
    Keep my grind I don't, waste my time
    Comin up, gettin down for mines
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh

    [Pimp C]
    Deep up in the game, ain't no stoppin
    I get my money like Johnny 'Guitar' Watson
    Pimpin them hoes and put the bitch on the track
    And tell the ho to bring all my money back
    I wanna holla at that boy Ike Turner
    You gotta know it's 'bout the paper and you learn her
    About gettin on the corner for your daddy
    What love got to do with it, I'm in the Caddy
    I got a yellow-ass ho that'll suck you up
    That'll blow in yo' butt ain't scared to fuck
    And she'll bend over, take it like a G
    Because you know the bitch down with Pimp C
    I switched my name, to Jack Tripper
    Now the hoes tryin to pull down my fuckin zipper
    And get to that snake with the cobra head
    I got some homeboys doin life in the fed

    [Chorus - Mayfield falsetto] + (Pimp C)
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh
    (See me on the slab, whippin in the Nav', you already know I'm cookin in the lab)
    (See me on the slab, whippin in the Nav', you already know I'm cookin in the lab)

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    [Pimp C]
    When I was young, alls I wanted was a 'llac
    I used to think them niggaz fiends that was blowin on the weed sack
    Cause all I did was cut up cheese
    And sell dope and come through with the thang with ease
    I used to have, a .25 pistol
    But now I got some shit that shoot like a missile
    I tuck a AK, HK too bitch
    I eat you up I ain't goin for that ho shit
    Them other niggaz playin games in the streets
    You think it's 'bout bein lame and makin lame beats
    We ain't 'bout you and them bitch niggaz
    Cause fuck boys, could easily get hit with the trigger
    You think you rich? But you a bitch
    You see me in the club check my pitch
    I'm down with J. Prince bitch, and you know that
    When we come through splittin big niggaz hats

    [Chorus - Mayfield falsetto] + (Pimp C)
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
    I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh
    (I'm whippin in the Nav', comin on the slab, you already know I'm cookin in the lab)
    (I'm whippin in the Nav', comin on the slab, you already know I'm cookin in the lab)

    [Pimp C]
    Twenty-fo' I'm a country star, in a country car
    Got a country-ass bitch, sip country bar
    Got a country son, got a country chain
    Come and got in the car, and grippin country grain
    Sweet Jones bitch, Pimp (peeeimp) knahmtalkinbout?
    Go out and get that shit
    I'm talkin 'bout doin, a million records independently sold, on yo' bitch ass
    So when you see me in the city recognize I'm already paid
    When you see me choppin on blades, {?} bitch
    Not them phony-ass blades with no knockers on 'em
    Representin that side, P.A. to B-zay
    And ain't no thang to beat a bitch-ass nigga
    Ain't no Blood and no Crip, fuck-ass nigga I'm {?}
    I told ya, bitch

    [ad libs to fade]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Dean Michael George, C Pimp y D Durriseu

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