Birdman
We Hustle
[Intro: Juvenile]
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[Verse 1: Juvenile]
It's a fresh package I got, why not move it
Keepin' it in the house, I'll have the Feds locked to it
Business as usual is goin' on in the slums
We want the whole cake, n***a, we don't want no crums
Stupid shit, we avoid it, dope, we exploit it
Had our shit tight bitches done destroyed it
Now n***as gettin' out lookin' for employers
Made a deal with the D.A. and the lawyer
Swearin' he would never tell, put it on his daughter
Sayin' he was outta town, n***a crossed the border
Should've bust his head, but I don't need the heat
I'll send another n***a out to handle beef for me
It's a test cause I've been given him a ki a week
Let me see what they gon' do up on the streets for me
And if he hand me his business, I'mma make sure he's straight
The only n***a out the project Magnolia with weight

[Chorus: Turk]
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play
[Verse 2: B.G.]
Started out with a seven-gram quarter, flipped to half-a-ounce
Tryin' to keep clothes on my daughter and food in her mouth
It don't stop from sun-up to sun-down, I'm on the grind
In two weeks I was workin' a 16-25
Tryin' to get it, only thing in my vision is ballin'
Jumpin' out a 500-S class on Brodders
So you only had a nickel like me hustlin' hard
'Fore I knew I was workin' four ounces and two quarters
Not a taker I'm scarred from [?]
Swore he was gon' front just bringin' his shit
Now I got a quarter ki, broke it down to six and two quarters
It's cooked already, I got these n***as runnin' like water
Slowly, I'm comin' up, scorin' a ounce since fronted nine
Had this n***a, only said what they workin', the block is mine
Got hustlin' skills in my blood, come from my pa
That's how I know the game cause at a young age I was taught

[Chorus: Turk]
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play
[Verse 3: Baby]
Brother, you my hustler, and K.C. my killer
Michael, [?], Curl, y'all lay back and peep these n***as
Dubbed all and wide open whatever whatever, my n***a
Big [?] grab the Glock out to shoot, my n***a
Then if it go down, I know you're ridin', n***a
But it's cool, I lost some hot boys, my n***a
But I'm a fool untamed by the children in this game
Tre, go grab them things, we gon' get paid, man
Joe Casey know a n***a wan' buy some things
I start in the hood, I keep it real with my goods
Lac, hurry up back, I know a n***a wan' buy some crack
Smack a whole brick on that bitch when it come back
Stone, you play the cuts and watch my back
Magnolia Shorty, take these stacks and meet me at the shack
I'm 'bout to go to a car lot on veterans, black
And buy that new black-on-black 2G Cadillac

[Chorus: Turk & Mannie Fresh]
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play
N***a, we hustle, hustle every day, all day
Get our grind on in the project hallway
N***a try to hit a hustle, they get burnt with a K
Hot Boys and Big Tymers, they surely don't play (What, what, what)
[Verse 4: Mannie Fresh]
Remember when shit was a easy task
Back in the days that passed
When bitches use to cut class
Just to let a dumb n***a hit that ass
Now everything fucked up
Sure virgin pussy gon' cost you a-hundred bucks
N***a, that use to be the man shit outta luck
Young n***as walkin' 'round with that duck
Some say, "Play with your nose."
Some say, "Fuck them hoes."
Some say, "You're fat, work out and get a six-pack"
I say, "Fuck all that, I'd rather have six facts"
Young n***as done drove me to pack a heater
Fuck drawin' up the meat beaters
They tryin' to defeat us
Move us out and delete us
Erase us n***as from the face of the earth
Put your dick in the dirt
No how, no way, daddy, it won't work
I refuse to be a statistic
DNA ballistic
With a closed casket
Cause some young n***a blasted my brains on the side
Lil' daddy, I'mma swing wide and let everything out here feel me
You ain't gon' do it, old age gon' kill me