Butch Ca**idy - Outro (The Hustler's Theme) lyrics

[Mr. Kee] Yeah Hustler's theme Worldwide Come on Hook: Mr. Kee All money ain't good money Stack your chips Let it flip like some hood money co*k them rims Let 'em spin on them haters, man And all the players Worldwide, do your thug thang (The hustler's theme) All money ain't good money Stack your chips Let it flip like some hood money co*k them rims Let 'em spin on them haters, man And all the players Worldwide, do your thug thang Pre-Verse: Baby Bash I take a slow beat (Slow beat) And spit a hard rap (Hard rap) Pobre, I ain't retarded, you know we off that (Off that) From the west, my brother, to the east Back down To the diggy dirty for sherzy (What the feezy?) Repeat Pre-Verse [Verse 1: Baby Bash] Now I walk around like I got a rock in my sock When it's just a limb, from this money right in my pocket Pimp I know you smell it cause it's gettin' you naucious Cause the sh** I'm layin' on this track is Brown as the Foxy's I'm the done dealer Don Dadda, fresh out of Guatemala Some say, "Bash, you the sh**" In Spanish, I'm the dada It's the million dollar Mexi, the mack, God he done bless me Girls wanna caress me, like I'm Elvis Presley Chorus: Russell Lee It don't stop Straight to the top til the game lock You know I gotta rep for my hood and my block Stackin' up my bread, make me stand a little taller Collectin' my winnings without punching no Glocks The game's gettin' hard, so I gotta get smarter Watching out for cops, cause my homies got knocked Drought seas in our cheer, but my pocket's ain't starvin' That's why I stay chargin' You know we won't stop [Verse 2: Don Cisco] This is for my heavyweighters Pullin' strings like elevators Where my ops in full swing, I'll be standing on top of skyscrapers Seventy stories or more Eventually the public'll Know my story, fa' sho Make a household Name out of Don Cisco Go from a hustler Born and grind, tryin' to find some dough To the billion dollar Boy club Mexicali thug style I got Money to get back, I'm fresh off the drug drought FED's couldn't stop me, head shots didn't pop me Wouldn't lock, never got me, I'm the same player, still co*ky Bossed out Hoppin' out of the drought Lookin' flossed out, everything chopped, even the crop Believe I'm the don, listen, everything I'm breathing on Represent west side til the rider in me's dead and gone Me and Bash do things Butch Ca**idy, sing Let 'em know it's all know, the cash prestine Come on Bridge: Butch Ca**idy Ain't nobody gonna stop me now I'm gonna do everything I can And ain't nobody gonna stop my flow You gonna hear me from coast to coast But Somebody's gonna make me mad And I'm a take everything they have So put it all in the past And do it so quick, so fast Repeat Hook [Verse 3: Nino Brown] Homeboy I got the grid locked That good yatch, gone breezes And they serve rock Some motherf**ers can't caught blocks Trey hop Roley bezel for you got swapped You like spider monkey, Nino Brown's sasquatch Them little haters, they be tickling me Brush 'em off, like the dust, on my Stacy, homie Once again, it's that motherf**in' Mexican with attitude Paid my dues Steady, grindin' through the avenues Dogder blue, homie The city that I represent Los Scandulous, city where my homies did f** a fed Keep 'em Presidential stacked up Hear what I said, little soldiers gettin' taxed up Back the f** up, move, biotch Get out the way You know the set, holmes And my A. stompin' Walkin' in my big brown boots Flossin' Stankin' eagle, that's my roots Motherf**er Repeat Chorus [Verse 4: Mr. Kee] Now put your money where your mouth is, anybody who doubt this Wherever you see the westside, that's probably where the south is United like a gang truce, khakis pants and house shoes But out in the Yay, it's throwbacks, beanies and bulletproof Spinners in their mouthpiece, heat up, and the old school Funk jump, no questions asked, ride like we supposed to Up in my city, see the bridge and the fall Know where the place on earth to be, than where this real turn off I'm smashing off a side show, but money must come first This ain't no overnight choice, I'm been a hustler since birth They call me Mr. Kee, the Latin boss Latin king, Latin don Spittin' like the Latin play, tryin' to put his Latins on And they say money is the root of all evil But there ain't nothing in this world to make me cross up my people I swear to God, I'll be a soldier til I'm six in the dirt My Henny bottle in my casket and a fist full of words The hustler's theme Repeat Chorus