Murs hustler remix lyrics

You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Goal not to be broken have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me and don't play with me homey [E] EWater ain't gon' give it to you late late EWater gon' give it to you straight, way before 8 I used to quarterback weight weight Did whatever it had to take to put out my first tape tape Tryin to outsmart the boys in blue Never knew how much I made made I used to throw 'em off with my glasses and my hi-top fade fade But I never pedalled woofy just that A-1 yo-yo mayne mayne That's off my cocoa leaf leaf Stapler in my du-duh-du-duhs, hubbles between my booty cheeks The same old clothes for weeks weeks gritty and sabalosa A turfed out motherfucker, in a Granada smoker roper roper [Lyrics from: You fall off you look around you'll be seein who fake A true hustler, fall on his face and keep risin So just when they counted me out, I surprised 'em Fuck a dollar out of 15 cents, when I be clockin in My punch card make money appear, out of oxygen As long as I'm breathin, my pockets will swell And John Cena's the kid, that go through hell for a cell, what? By using this website, you agree with our use of cookies to improve its performance and enhance your user experience. More info in our Cookies Policy page.
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John Cena - Hustle (Remix) lyrics

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MURS - Hustler Remix Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Everybody out here wanna be hustlers, man Buit they dont have any idea what I used to do I used to do anything imaginable A nigga like me was scared to go to jail So I'd use my brain and just think up the most outlandish shit Shit niggas would never do, I used to get dirty Now these niggas out here just be out here queer hustling Man these niggas got it all backwards I'm gonna show 'em how I used to do it A lotta people wanna knock what we do on my block But we do what we do cause we ain't got a lot And you might get shot if your tounges not watched Casue dudes walk around with hand cannons in their crotch Fucking up the way they walk, stuck to the strip like scotch With the top notch Bosch that can cook clean rocks See times is too hard for us to ever go soft So the doc got me on prescription strength zoloft So I can deal with the stress and I won't go off But I'm on top, won't stop 'til the microphone drop Rollin' four deep in the Cut like, what? Hit you up and then roll off, we tryin' to get this dough boss We don't do diamonds cause my dudes ain't show offs Tryin' to keep it low so we don't see no cops Wanna blow up, but I don't wanna go pop Gotta blow up cause I can't let this dough stop H-U-S-T-L-E Hustler! You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie H-U-S-T-L-E Hustler! You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Roll not to be broke and have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me, and don't play with me homie I used to sell insense bottle 10 cents a dozen Hit the strip and make 'em flip for a dollar a sack Everyday before juinor high I bought a six pack And sold 'em for a buck a piece down by the track And I never sold crack, did aluminum cans Used to get laughed at by you and your mans But I never let it get, stay true to my plans I used it all for the studio Now you understand In the grocery store parking lot, like can I help you ma'am? To the car with those bags, used to run that old drag For a itty bitty tip, maybe a quarter or more And when I wasn't doing that I was knocking at your door Like, "May I speak to the head of the household?
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Hustle (remix) Lyrics

You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Goal not to be broken have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me and don't play with me homey [E] EWater ain't gon' give it to you late late EWater gon' give it to you straight, way before 8 I used to quarterback weight weight Did whatever it had to take to put out my first tape tape Tryin to outsmart the boys in blue Never knew how much I made made I used to throw 'em off with my glasses and my hi-top fade fade But I never pedalled woofy just that A-1 yo-yo mayne mayne That's off my cocoa leaf leaf Stapler in my du-duh-du-duhs, hubbles between my booty cheeks The same old clothes for weeks weeks gritty and sabalosa A turfed out motherfucker, in a Granada smoker roper roper Sippin on King Cobra Cobra bankroll full of huns huns Fluffin that Public Enemy, "Mi uzi Weighs a Ton" Ton Oooh, and it was off to the hood hood Local boy from Vallejo, that player done made it good! You fall off you look around you'll be seein who fake A true hustler, fall on his face and keep risin So just when they counted me out, I surprised 'em Fuck a dollar out of 15 cents, when I be clockin in My punch card make money appear, out of oxygen As long as I'm breathin, my pockets will swell And John Cena's the kid, that go through hell for a cell, what?
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You'll never find a dime that ain't mine motherfucker Goal not to be broken have to stroll like a sucker So pay me what you owe me and don't play with me homey [E] EWater ain't gon' give it to you late late EWater gon' give it to you straight, way before 8 I used to quarterback weight weight Did whatever it had to take to put out my first tape tape Tryin to outsmart the boys in blue Never knew how much I made made I used to throw 'em off with my glasses and my hi-top fade fade But I never pedalled woofy just that A-1 yo-yo mayne mayne That's off my cocoa leaf leaf Stapler in my du-duh-du-duhs, hubbles between my booty cheeks The same old clothes for weeks weeks gritty and sabalosa A turfed out motherfucker, in a Granada smoker roper roper Sippin on King Cobra Cobra bankroll full of huns huns Fluffin that Public Enemy, "Miuzi Weighs a Ton" Ton Oooh, and it was off to the hood hood Local boy from Vallejo, that player done made it GOOD! You fall off you look around you'll be seein who fake A true hustler, fall on his face and keep risin So just when they counted me out, I surprised 'em Fuck a dollar out of 15 cents, when I be clockin in My punch card make money appear, out of oxygen As long as I'm breathin, my pockets will swell And John Cena's the kid, that go through hell for a cell, what?
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