Hustlaz Song

Lupe Fiasco

Chorus: [ah ha] Ohh baby mmmmmmmm oh baby! [talk to em] 
ohhh baby [its what hustlaz do, this is a hustlaz song, 
this hustle is gone] 

Let me what the sun don't like, caught somewhere 
between stop and go like yellow lights. [ah ha] hustla so i 
got to get it mellow ride me down the block around the 
clock nothin nice. I roll like cherry red yellow dice just 
watch it pop call it the \"kettle white\", its hot, just 
the block , call it the \"ghetto wife\", Paul McCane its my 
ball and chain, mi amor. 

Hopefully I won't fall and hang, like pictures on the wall 
or halls of fame. Its jus a boy man, look what it all 
became nothin all, but look at all remains, all the flossy 
things, marks from all the claws and fangs, remarks from 
all of yall have changed. Bustin back all yall I trained, 
apologize cuz of all of yall I blame.. 

[Chorus] This what 
hustlaz 
do. An you ain't did it to a hustlaz do. An you didn't know 
it till a hustla knew. An you ain't done till a hustlaz 
threw. I'm a customer too its what hustlaz do. an you ain't 
seen it till you seen it from a hustla'z view. open yo eyes 
its a hustlaz song. God forgive if the hustle is wrong. 

Its bigger things so he becomes to know shit. Striving to 
be numba one till I overdose.I speak it now on my tongue 
hold it from youngest son, runnin from older quotes, \"Thou 
shall not sin, thou shall not steal, thou shall not kill, 
thou shall not turn your back on those in need, i try to 
flip, but these government slips teach me at these chosen 
speeds. I'm just a rows of weeds. and i roll 
with reasons to stay on the road a lead till I leave with 
what I sow, sold my soul indeed, leave me son with a sum of what I sold in deeds. I'm foldin yo, Probably headed for 
the pin like some bowling balls, kept it directed at the 
pen and wrote it for yall. 

[Chorus] 

It takes a lot of patience when you takin it on, a lot of 
patent a lot of makin it known, but I ain't the type of 
nigga that be placin it on.I was the king of this city now 
they replacing the thrown. I know its a lot of hatin waitin 
at home, and she ain't waitin you can hear the bass in her 
tone, like she can't make it alone in a broken home and she 
the brace for the bone just embracin the phone 
a lot of ballin up letters a lot of erasing the poems, a 
lot of comin to grips that you gonna be facin alone. All 
this time all this time you was wrong.But you know whatever 
happens I got you, and you know what happened done happened 
they was happy to drop you, not letters and shoes, no 
chedda, Yo mom sold shoes and sweaters shes not better. 

[Chorus]
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