B-Money - Hustler's Ambition lyrics

Like the fire needs the air I won't burn unless you're there, you're there Oooh I need you [Intro] Yea, I need you, I need you to hate So I can use you for your energy You know, it's real sh**, feel this [Verse 1: 50 Cent] America got a thing for this gangster sh**, they love me Black Chukkas, black skully, leather Pelle Pelle I tag SPIT over Ramo's sh**, I'm a vandal Got that silver duct tape on my trey-eight handle The women in my life bring confusion and sh** So like Nino in "New Jack," I holla "Cancel that b**h!" Look at me, this is the life I chose n***as around me so cold, man my heart done froze I built an empire on the low, the narc's don't know I'm the weatherman, I take that cocoa leaf and make that snow Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the do' O after O, you know? I'm just triple beam, dreaming, n***as be scheming I fiend to live the good life, the fiends are just fiending Conceal my weapon nice and neat so you can't see The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me [Hook] I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) n***a, you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine And I'll buck you (buck you) I don't care who you run with, or where you from n***a, f** you (f** you) I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) [Verse 2: 50 Cent] I don't know sh** about gymnastics, I somersault bricks And black talons start flying when a n***a flip I cook crack in the microwave, n***as can't f** with me Man my co-d's call me Chef Boyar-50 Check my logic, smokers don't like seeds in they weed, sh** Send me them seeds, I'll grow them what they need Them ain't Chia pet plants in the crib, that's chronic And I'm selling them for 500 a pop, goddamn it I sell anything I'm a hustler, I know how to grind Step on grapes, put it in water and tell you it's wine If you an*lyze me, what you will find Is the DNA of a crook and what goes on in my mind Is contagious, hypnotic, it sounds melodic If rap was the block or a spot, I'd be that potent product Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key And you can locate me wherever that dope be Getting money man [Hook] [Verse 3: 50 Cent] It's the Hustler's Ambition, close your eyes, listen see my vision Mossberg pumping, shotgun dumping The drama means nothing, it's part of the game Catch me in the coupe switching lanes or in the j**eler switching chains I upgrade from dirty "BS" to clean VS Rocks that I copped from proceeds from the spot I got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline Play the curb and get nauseous, watching the spinners spin I made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state Now I can invite your a** out to my estate Them hollow tips bent me up, but I'm back in shape Pour Cristal in the blender, make a protein shake I'm like the East coast number one playboy B Hugh Hefner'll tell you he ain't got sh** on me The feds watch me, icey, they can't stop me Racist, pointing at me, "Look at n***araci" - hello [Hook]