Hustler, baller, gangster, cap-pealer Who I be, your neighborhood drug dealer
Mr. Redan, better known as the weed man 55 over [?] , silver split cost you three grand Life dealt me a weak hand, so I had to get this paper Like the Indiana Pacers, nigga I had to freelance See more Saturdays than the weekend Made a living off touching them circles, look like I'm Djing Like Krs One, they say I burned too many bridges, shit I don't see anybody tryna book and see Shan See when, I go jumping off the deep end Shallow minded adults can't paddle through what I'm speaking Music saved my life, this ain't just a hobby My partners grew up doing 187 robberies At 15, I was taking bread to poppy Caught so many flights, Delta send the feds to watch me Only me real niggas understand, I been seen 100 grand Cause my Og was a
Hustler, baller, gangster, cap-pealer Who I be, your neighborhood drug dealer
Publicist for gangsters, was hustling when Wanksta First came out but I wasn't fucking with no strangers Just my rich homie, young, thugging with the banger Only brought my 38 cause he had 30 in the chamber Went from teachers calling, your mama coming to spank you Now it's house arrest, monitors on your ankle My people say I think I'm too grown Sold an ounce at the bus stop, that's a school zone Fool gone, saying that I ain't street cause I moved on Boost phone chirping, Cadillac with the roof gone Two tone nigga tryna jet, get a tombstone Just a bunch of hoodlums, trap looking like a group home I learned how to wrap the pack and grade [?] Cause the scent was way too strong Back when bread got caught and got too long Shit, we thought it was cool to be a
Hustler, baller, gangster, cap-pealer Don't make me break you off somethin'
Let me set this shit straight, let me lay down the rules You can't hustle if you ain't got the tools No gun play around playgrounds or schools This shit deep, you can't swim, nigga stay out the pool Y'all gon kill each other, just make sure it stay off the news Pull your K out, leave him laid out, how it play out is cool It's over yay I assume, so they had to break out the broom Street sweepers turn your hood to a stage off of doom I understand sometimes they got to do what they got to do But just make sure you on the Greyhound, boy by late afternoon Don't take a lick before you take out your food Meaning, before you pull up out back you need to stake out your move Hit in the head, the body fall, Junior Seau out your crew If you tryna avoid the feds, nigga stay out the loot My homie [?] got the wop, my partner [?] got the whoop Meaning stay out folk's business if they ain't talking to you If you tryna be a
Hustler, baller, gangster, cap-pealer Who I be, your neighborhood drug dealer
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