Hustlers and Customers lyrics

by

Lupe Fiasco


[Verse One]

Professional thugs, police raids, federal bugs
Who else is here, Belvidere, several jugs
Home made rocks, eye-drops, and medical drugs
Selling you for revenue, sell and use incredible plugs
A shell or two no respect for you edible slugs
Execute feds arresting you
You confess to a lesser two without even pressing you
Before the questions through, you leaking street names and addresses too
The block fiends, I lock things, stones I sling
Rock jeans, grab Glocks c*cked under boxed springs
Most n*ggas want money and power
Half of them n*ggas is funny and cowards get hit with dummies and flour
Most n*ggas sleeping, like lights out hours
But I'm eating, trying to ice out hours
The spoon to the floor, the glass to the door
Take the flash off the Ford about to mash on you all

[Hook]

It's Hustlers & Customers and
n*ggas and snitches and
Players who want to profit and haters who want to stop it
It's snakes up in the grass and fakes who want your cash
Lock your daughter door and c*ck your fourty-four
[Verse Two]

I got few friendships, cause friends tend to shift
Leave you to fend for yourself in the midst defenseless
In any instance that right hand can turn witness
Had to develop long vision like senseless
View the business of hard white
I sat too close so now I read with far sight
Get money hand over like all right, homo or dyke, armor light
Red dots like record all white force Nikes rhymes to short mics
My n*ggas rob Peters to pay Pauls and extort Mikes
I don't pop Cris but to be Frank I was hurt when I heard they popped Chris
Now I'm moving mach-six
Y'all n*ggas is week, I'm leap year
Nothing to see here
Cops be at your house like "There's Nothing To See Here"
L-U-P get it clear in each ear
Before you get it ear to ear and need mouth to mouth for wiling out

[Hook]

[Verse Three]

The basics: court cases and ignore faces
All you little jokers can keep your war faces
n*ggas is easy to get
These Weezy and Smiths turn bracelets into Hinckley and Schmidt
Get ya stuck, they're drying their sleeves
Or exceed the recommended miles per hour trying to leave
If you pull your guns out all the cowards will flee
Cause they can't front if they lose the power to breathe
I keep a good grip like OXO on the auto
Ready to cap from cop to Capo
Streets n*ggas get potholes
Carlos will get it in his paco
Pits get parvo, peezy part, yo
Your peeps probably think pop be playing
Cause I just started sh*tting, like potty training
Just give me two killers and a raw
And I'mma keep your "City High," without two n*ggas and a broad
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