Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Fat Joe. Hustlin'.

(feat. Armageddon)

[Fat Joe]
Uhh, T.S.!
None better (Bronx niggaz, uhh)
Life of a hustler (ha-hah, what'chu know about that?)
Yo, yo, yo
Yo the mind of a hustler be trained to count money and lies
Supplyin customers and keep it peace and just spendin they time
Pop another thug that's tryin to scream but they dimes
Hoppin all the clubs in town, they don't need to wear shines
They got that energy, confident and always aware
who's watchin them, bitches on top of them, they don't just be near
Probably spot poppy and them they robbed last year
and just, nod and stare and show no fear
Cause nine times out of ten this bitch connects this kid to shoot you
They too hot so catchin a body's too crucial
If you a hustler, I know you relate
Whether you home base or go out of state
This shit is real
and you better recognize when you see 'em, these niggaz kill
A whole 'nother drug dealer keep 'em with steels
So be creepin so it's real on the deal, with the F-E-D
Some of them sleep in six feet cause they skrilled

[Chorus: Armageddon]
Fuckin with hustlers - you see us in the clubs
Everybody wanna be us, wife beaters and flip drugs
We them hustlers - a little thug's role model
Where the snubb full of hollow's tryna earn a little power
He a hustler - some of us locked for eternity
Get shot down and murdered in beef or turnin for police
Hustlers - yeah, you know what the sparks done
You know where we evolve from, you know when the heart's pump
Hustlin

[Fat Joe - overlapping end of Chorus]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
See life a style, now it's rappin, how you push packs in large amounts
and never spend a day in life movin them cats about?
That's not what Crack's about; I cooked it, cut it and lift it
From Brooklyn to one-sixty fiddith, I took bricks and flip shit
Clips I sit 'em even whip some women from runnin they lips
and gettin me in the middle of shit with other niggaz
And real dealers don't be yappin on the phone
What you think, father born? Don't be caskets and clothes
C'mon y'all know niggaz slip, speakin a joke
There go the dial tone, click, now you steamin with holes
Y'all motherfuckers couldn't fathom what's about to go down
Like a year from now, when the bears get out
From a ten-year stretch down to air shit out
Make him a man, show your heart when I tear it out
They say hustlin is the key to success, and on that note
I can feed you niggaz for less, I got madd coke

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, it's for all my hustlin niggaz
All my liquid dime niggaz
All my niggaz flippin bricks out there, yeah
All my niggaz in the Columbia brother suits
In the pourin rain, tryna get your shit on
Smokin the C.I. in the rain, y'know? (uh-huh)
Cup of noodles in your hand
It's you nigga Joey Coco, and I'm a hustler

[Chorus]