[Intro: Young Scooter]
Yeah, count up

[Chorus: Young Scooter]
You a hustler right?
You out on that corner, you out there thuggin'
Is you livin' that street life?
This a letter to you, better stay on your grind
Don't make dollars, don't make sense
Keep that on your mind
This a letter to the streets
You out there broke? You need some hustle?
Pay attention to me
This a letter to the streets
Got like ten different hustles
Each one worth a whole lot of money

[Verse 1: Young Scooter]
I know a young n***a who lost his life
Standin' on that corner and ain't even sold no white
Think the streets a game, you'll play yourself
White chalk, now you hood memories
Bricks cause a whole lot of murder scenes
I promise you ain't seen all the shit I seen
I really seen them tractor trailers willed with weed
Done put over a million pounds on the street
Rockin' real diamonds, jugged up on this jewelry
I done jugged up on the plug, you can't fuck with me
I got shooters all around me, don't you fuck with me
I push a button n***a, that's just how I order keys
I just talked to Hector, he say he back over seas
He told me "Take the year off cause we done flood the streets"
[?] we bust down like three mil' a piece
I make count music, shit that put you on your feet
[Chorus: Young Scooter]
You a hustler right?
You out on that corner, you out there thuggin'
Is you livin' that street life?
This a letter to you, better stay on your grind
Don't make dollars, don't make sense
Keep that on your mind
This a letter to the streets
You out there broke? You need some hustle?
Pay attention to me
This a letter to the streets
Got like ten different hustles
Each one worth a whole lot of money

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Whole crew get fly like planes now
We struggle, shit, that's why we bangin' right now
And all that money, it got stains now
And I'm one step ahead of you lames
If you play, I'll bust your brain, yeah
Uh, and I ain't crippin' nor trippin'
I'm busy in the kitchen with them chickens, water whippin'
I'm water whippin', yeah, and we ain't snitchin' nor crippin'
Take your main ho to the loft
Then call Scooter phone and drop her off
Call that installment
Like, oops, what I meant?
I meant [?]
If I'm a dog, you all ticks, and this cash ticks
Your lover, I'm passed it, your ho, I smashed it
Your ho, I trashed it, now she look nasty
I gotta walk, my pants saggin', and baggy
Racks on me automatic
But I'm ridin' in the stick with a stick
I'll shoot a n***a whole clique and you know this
Hunnid racks on the table
Call my homie back, he was like "I owe this"
Me and my big homie Scooter ridin' 'round focused
[Chorus: Young Scooter]
You a hustler right?
You out on that corner, you out there thuggin'
Is you livin' that street life?
This a letter to you, better stay on your grind
Don't make dollars, don't make sense
Keep that on your mind
This a letter to the streets
You out there broke? You need some hustle?
Pay attention to me
This a letter to the streets
Got like ten different hustles
Each one worth a whole lot of money