Prodigy Of Mobb Deep - Episodes of a Hustla lyrics

[Big Noyd] I'm the type of gentleman finessin Timberlands Flippin like three grand, cop a hundred grams goin hand and hand Hennessy guzzlin, just motherf**in hustlin On the streets watchin police in the gray caprice Six Y trey gate, time to motivate Those are the dz that like to squeeze If you flip you gettin hit with the four pound Pull out your gat take out more rounds 3 against 1, thats how we go down I can't get knocked, they tryin to get the drop, damn sh** is hot Im watchin what they doin cuz they cruisin up the next block Im hot with this chrome piece, but I don't need the position Where I'm spittin at the motherf**in police I couldn't get caught, had to leave New York, couldn't use my pa**port b**hes hangin up in the airport So yo bro, got to take the jetta Whateva, I'm on the flow gotta get these ginos Got a hundred grams of Coke bout to blow Feel my cold pistol fully start spittin I'm hittin and won't miss you I'm official, Queensbridge murdera, life gambalin especially Professionally gat handlin Call me V cuz I'mm vexed like a veteran And better than whoever wanna Front let em step up in [Hook: Prodigy x4] Introducin', exclusive Episodes of a hustla to all you fake thug motherf**ers [Big Noyd] Sittin back, the blunt steamin, sippin heines and dreamin Pushin keys in four wheelers, flippin millions to billions My style is extraordinary foul when it come to grams Im usin plans takin out the whole fam You best to believe the trigga squeeze, makin n***as bleed Cross sea delivery, pushin keys out of factories Baby you sound good, blowin up in the hood, its logical Matter fact its possible, I got my work bubblin, me and my n***as jugglin Cracks and strugglin while we hustlin but with no question We gonna survive to the fittest cuz we in this, style corrupt what the f** Life style like a menace, child livin for rounds for Queensbridge era I be bringin terror, the natural born hustla so yea whateva [Hook] [Big Noyd] A n***a try to bag me, he grabbed me, a n***a almost had me I pulled out the banga and blew his a** badly, I'm nasty Crazy mentality, start a catastrophe livin life tragedy You know you gettin jumped punk There ain't no time for more than one Tellin em son (They front, Smoke his a** like a Philly blunt) Reach for my spine, pull out my nine, co*k it one time Make him lay down, dont move around cuz your a** mine Gave a crook look got him shook, he on the floor flinchin Now we b**hin and he snitchin, listen I pistol whipped him, but to know the main fact Is that I pushed his wig back then took off in the black AC' Hook [Big Noyd] Motherf**er, word up