[Da Hustla:]
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Yea, You just a Performer, I was on the corner grindin the packet,
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I'm a Ryder, If there's drama, I'm Palmin the Ratchet
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And You could find me In traffic, I'm in the streets,
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10 Years ago I was Movin like 10 a Week,
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You just a family man, Tryin settle down,
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You on parole, So you scared to hold the metal now,
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You moved away from the hood, I'm in the ghetto now,
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Yea, I grip pipes, I jus like how the metal sound,
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I got the metal now, Nigga, I ain't never scared,
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How the Fuck You run Philly and You ain't never there,
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And I ain't never feared nuttin but god,
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You went to jail, came home and ain't do nuttin but Hide,
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But Fuck it, I'm a Ride, I Mite startin sparkin the H,
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I send rap Cats to God like Mase,
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And like the car accident, I'll put another scar on your face,
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But when the 5 Clap, You ain't gone Survive that!
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[BARS:]
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Oh, You ruthless? The record I'm a Hustla Stupid,
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Cause Jay Made more off the record than You Did,
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And Swizz made more off the record than You Did,
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So You did somethin for nuthin you doofus,
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I'm to sick for, any nigga with 2 lips,
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And 1 tongue in his mouth, I talk to slick,
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You only got a few hits and a couple fans,
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And I could probly get you bodied for a couple grand,
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I caught a murder, attempts I had a couple man,
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But I could knuckle man, and knock you out with a couple hands,
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Every bar I spit raw like a couple grams,
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You the Hustla, But I'll show you how to hustle man!
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[Da Hustla:]
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Look, I'm a Give this guy an aplause,
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But It's alota lies in alot of his BARS,
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Cause I'm a hustla, I sold Pies of the Raw,
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Plus, the hustla gon ride if it's war,
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But You the type of boy that'll hide if it's war,
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You the type'a boy that never come outside if it's war,
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So, you a nut to me, You know you can't fuck with me,
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And BARS you was locked up on protective custody,
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You like my son, but I don't want custody!
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You a mut to me, I'm a Pit, And You a pup to me,
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You in the street cause you beat the case luckily!
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But You ain't tough as me,
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I'll burn You like a dutch-a-tree!
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[BARS:]
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You a snitch, You a rat, You a sing, You'll hold the note,
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I sold the coke, or smoke weed till I'm comatose,
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I live by the rules, I was schooled by the older folks,
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I was showed the ropes by the cats that was holdin toast,
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Lords knows even goons get the holy ghost,
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Yea, I believe in christ but I'll still squeeze a pipe,
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And I don't even need to write, Or switch the flow,
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You niggas know I ain't MURDA FLUKE or Cysi-Ro!
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I'm way sicker yo, So who ever supposed to be nice get 2 choices, the toast or the knife!
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And if you think you a hustler, then You the one smokin the pipe,
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Cause you ain't never sold no coke in you life, Trust me!
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You must be given money away if you got 20 strips all doin 20 a day!
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Cause You ain't worth shit, You went gold on your first disc,
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And I'm a Hustla sold less then your first shit!
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-----------------
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Intro (B.A.R.S. vs. Da Hustla)
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| Cassidy |
