Bonofide Hustler Songtext
von Young Buck
Bonofide Hustler Songtext
Yeah, I′m a special kinda nigga with mine's, you know?
I grind, I get′s paper, you know what I mean?
Hahaha, oh yeah
I'm a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I′ll come at you from behind
With my nine, I'm a bonafide hustler
They say heaven′s for the church go'ers, and hell's for the heathens
So I′ma just ball the fuck out, while I′m breathin'
8th after 8th, what you know about that fast flip?
Crack spots, smokey fiends, suckin′ on that glass dick
Man sham stay askin' for a dime for nine
I tell you what, I′ll hook you up, this one last time
Custody's comin′, son is pumpin, watch the packs disolve
Singles, C-notes, to food stamps, we stackin' it all
Past that joint, whats his name son? I don't remember
The Haitian nigga with the guitar that sang gone in November
I do a buck 40 in the rain, hydro plainin′
Lamborghini diablo, candy-painted
Got that hydro burnin′, got the burner in the stash
Hit the hazards, hit the a.c., then it come out the dash
If I go in the club son, and niggas start dumbin'
Start shootin n′ I ain't straped, fuck it, I′m runnin'
I′m a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya'
Me, I′m ′bout my paper, it's fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I'm 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
I been out here for too long, I deserve to get a bird
The fiend's know my name now, from standin′ on this curb
I got blood on my shirt, and a hand full of crack
A bunch of lil' niggas with dime sack′s in they backpacks
Come and get it, we got it, take a trip to the projects
You see the police, but we gon' sell our dope regardless
You niggas know me, from fillin' up ya′ heroine needles
I′m connected with them people who don't speak no english
We ain′t scared of the road, we just get it and go
You see them Tennessee tags nigga, you already know
I don't trust no hoes, thats how ′t got popped
He showed the bitch where his stash was, she told it to the cops
Me and preist had the streets on lock
He'd break down the blocks, I′d open up shop, 'round the clock
And I ain't gon′ stop, so soon as you come home from the pen
We at it again, we gettin′ it for 10, my nigga
I'm a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I′ll cut ya'
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I′ll cut ya'
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I′ll come at you from behind
With my nine, I'm a bonafide hustler
Now I'm headed down south and that′s my word
I′m on a greyhound, 'bout to move these birds
And if these niggas don′t let me sling
I'm out there robbin′ everything
Got a brand new mack and a P-89
Yay's a hustler, man I stay on the grind
Nine grams of heroine, 100 grams of coke
12 O′s of mushrooms, two pounds of smoke
Three gal's of dust juice, and a tank of l.s.d.
And a 1000 pills of every kind of ecstacy
Hash, ha-sheesh, I bought a '62
When I was younger with my crew
I had them niggas sniffin′ glue
It′s 40 cinnagrams, to them trucka's and bammer′s
And I can chef up a miracle with arm and hammer
I'm a hustler, man I supply the fiends
I′m a hustler, nigga I'll sell you a dream
I′m a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya'
Me, I′m ′bout my paper, it's fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I'm 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
I grind, I get′s paper, you know what I mean?
Hahaha, oh yeah
I'm a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I′ll come at you from behind
With my nine, I'm a bonafide hustler
They say heaven′s for the church go'ers, and hell's for the heathens
So I′ma just ball the fuck out, while I′m breathin'
8th after 8th, what you know about that fast flip?
Crack spots, smokey fiends, suckin′ on that glass dick
Man sham stay askin' for a dime for nine
I tell you what, I′ll hook you up, this one last time
Custody's comin′, son is pumpin, watch the packs disolve
Singles, C-notes, to food stamps, we stackin' it all
Past that joint, whats his name son? I don't remember
The Haitian nigga with the guitar that sang gone in November
I do a buck 40 in the rain, hydro plainin′
Lamborghini diablo, candy-painted
Got that hydro burnin′, got the burner in the stash
Hit the hazards, hit the a.c., then it come out the dash
If I go in the club son, and niggas start dumbin'
Start shootin n′ I ain't straped, fuck it, I′m runnin'
I′m a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya'
Me, I′m ′bout my paper, it's fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I'm 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
I been out here for too long, I deserve to get a bird
The fiend's know my name now, from standin′ on this curb
I got blood on my shirt, and a hand full of crack
A bunch of lil' niggas with dime sack′s in they backpacks
Come and get it, we got it, take a trip to the projects
You see the police, but we gon' sell our dope regardless
You niggas know me, from fillin' up ya′ heroine needles
I′m connected with them people who don't speak no english
We ain′t scared of the road, we just get it and go
You see them Tennessee tags nigga, you already know
I don't trust no hoes, thats how ′t got popped
He showed the bitch where his stash was, she told it to the cops
Me and preist had the streets on lock
He'd break down the blocks, I′d open up shop, 'round the clock
And I ain't gon′ stop, so soon as you come home from the pen
We at it again, we gettin′ it for 10, my nigga
I'm a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I′ll cut ya'
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I′ll cut ya'
Me, I′m 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya'
If you play games with mine, I′ll come at you from behind
With my nine, I'm a bonafide hustler
Now I'm headed down south and that′s my word
I′m on a greyhound, 'bout to move these birds
And if these niggas don′t let me sling
I'm out there robbin′ everything
Got a brand new mack and a P-89
Yay's a hustler, man I stay on the grind
Nine grams of heroine, 100 grams of coke
12 O′s of mushrooms, two pounds of smoke
Three gal's of dust juice, and a tank of l.s.d.
And a 1000 pills of every kind of ecstacy
Hash, ha-sheesh, I bought a '62
When I was younger with my crew
I had them niggas sniffin′ glue
It′s 40 cinnagrams, to them trucka's and bammer′s
And I can chef up a miracle with arm and hammer
I'm a hustler, man I supply the fiends
I′m a hustler, nigga I'll sell you a dream
I′m a bonafide hustler, nigga get outta line I'll cut ya'
Me, I′m ′bout my paper, it's fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Nigga get outta line I'll cut ya′
Me, I'm 'bout my paper, it′s fuck ya′
If you play games with mine, I'll come at you from behind
With my nine, I′m a bonafide hustler
Writer(s): Raymond E. Jackson, Homer Banks, Curtis James Jackson, David Darnell Brown, Marvin Bernard, Carl Mitchell Hampton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com