Yeah uh mm give it to me
Mmmmm yeah
Yeah yeah
Mm no no no no
Seems like every night, right before I go to sleep
I say a little prayer to the Lord that he keep me, that he keep me
I used to be the kind of nigga that didnt give a fuck about nobody
The slightest little thing would make me mad
Especially if it involved my money
And I cant tell you bout the next man
But I love pullin up in big sedans
Wit all my niggas in a caravan
Holla if ya hear me
Now Id love to break ya, bring ya down
And take you back again
But that would take too much time
And I gotta hit the streets again
And even if the sun dont shine, Ill still be hustlin
Gotta get that money, make that money
Keep it comin, if it takes all night, cant be strugglin
Somebody come help me
Can ya tell me why is slangin always on my mind?
Must be buggin
I guess they figured I would quit and they could get me
If they tapped my line
Dont mean nothin
Ill still be hustlin
Now I hate to be the one to tell ya, but I dont mind
Niggas can hate if they want to
And Im still gon get mine, still gon get mine
Yes, I still be ridin in a SC on dubs
And I wont be seen at none of the clubs
And uh, all your women would know who I was
(And that you wouldnt like) And that you wouldnt like
If everybody kept they mind on gettin they scrilla
Wont be no time to fuck with mine, so wont be killin
Ill just sit back and recline, smoke this Philly
And keep my fingers laced with diamonds like Big Willie
But for now, catch me on Compton Avenue
With a handful of hundreds and a strap or two
Puttin it down for my niggas like they told me to
You need some candy, so wont you come thru
And even if the sun dont shine, Ill still be hustlin
Gotta get that money, make that money
Keep it comin, if it takes all night, cant be strugglin
Somebody come help me
Can ya tell me why is slangin always on my mind?
Must be buggin
I guess they figured I would quit and they could get me
If they tapped my line
Dont mean nothin
Ill still be hustlin
Sometimes Im suited up
Sometimes Im bummy, lookin like a crook
Hair all nappy and wild - we call it the full nuk
Mashin, mobbin and thrashin
Woopers, horns and tweeters blastin
Throbbin, hoggin and doggin
Godzilla ballin
When its money callin? War-rank, war-rank
Just ride your runners fool
Be bout your bank
Sittin fat like chupling
All about my money, duffle bags full of scratch
Artillery fire arms and gats
Reep my mill, cap my feddy, get my bread
Hirries on my tail, but Im tryin for them, but they want me dead, dead
Cuz I made it out the game without a clue or trace
Used to sell that bass
Rock cavvy candy, ??
Never had to stop, enemies on the block, they knew it (they knew it)
As far as I was concerned, ? man I do it
Check it out
Money schemin
Chris Alberchuck, Chocolate Philly, Glocks Garcia Vegas
Black and Miles on the pack again (yes)
What you know about that?
TQ and E-40 Fonzarelli a.k.a. Charlie Hustle, easy
Biatch!!!
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