I’m a Hustler lyrics

by

Juvenile


[Intro: Pimp C]
I stay paid and I like blades
Old school cars and loving Maze
I've got hoes (I've got hoes), I do shows
Getting money a-, riding Rolls (riding Rolls)
Keep my grind I don't, waste my time
Coming up, getting down for mines

[Hook: Pimp C]
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it

[Verse 1: Pimp C]
Deep up in the game, ain't no stopping
I get my money like Johnny Guitar Watson
Pimping them hoes and put the b*tch on the track
And tell the ho to bring all my money back
I want to holler at that boy Ike Turner
You gotta know it's 'bout the paper and you learn her
About getting 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 your butt ain't scared to f*ck
And she'll bend over, take it like a G
Because you know the b*tch down with Pimp C
I switched my name to Jack Tripper
Now the hoes trying to pull down my f*cking zipper
And get to that snake with the cobra head
I got some homeboys doing life in the fed
[Hook: Pimp C]
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it

See me on the slab, whipping in the Nav'
You already know I'm cooking in the lab x2

[Verse 2: Pimp C]
When I was young, all I wanted was a 'lac
I used to think them n*ggas was fiends that was blowing 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 sh*t that shoot like a missile
I tuck a AK, HK too b*tch
I'll hit you up, I ain't going for that ho sh*t
Them other n*ggas playing games in the streets
You think it's 'bout being lame and making lame beats
We ain't 'bout you and them beats n*ggas
Cause f*ck boys, could easily get hit with the trigger
You think you rich?
But you a b*tch
You see me in the club check my pitch
I'm down with J. Prince b*tch, and you know that
When we come through splitting b*tch n*ggas hats
[Hook: Pimp C]

[Verse 3: Pimp C]
Told you before I'm a country star
In a country car
Got a country ass b*tch, sip country barre
Got a country son, got a country chain
Coming down in the car, and gripping country grain

[Outro: Pimp C]
Sweet Jones b*tch, Pimp (peeeimp) knahmtalkinbout?
Go out and get that sh*t
I'm talking 'bout doing a million records independently sold, on your b*tch ass
So when you see me in the city recognize I'm already paid
When you see me chopping on blades, don't rob us b*tch
Not them phony-ass blades with no knockers on 'em
Representing that south, P.A. to be exact
And ain't no gang in P.A b*tch-ass n*gga
Ain't no blood and no Crip, f*ck-ass n*gga I'm Texas
I told ya, b*tch
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