Solomon Childs - Hustlers lyrics

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Solomon Childs - Hustlers lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Ya'll n***as need to read the bible, we in Revelations They told you God was coming.. [Chorus: Solomon Childs] Yell it with me (hustle, hustle) Get it with me (hustle, hustle) See it with me (hustle, hustle) Huh, huh? (hustle, hustle) [Solomon Childs] I go the E. on the block, the D. on the block The bread off the block, I be on the block With the cherry red V. on the block You n***as sports wear, NBA gear Fly on the block, clientele off the chain From the taste of the rock, try'nna go behind my back And steal my custies'll get you popped Whatever the deals, who deals, peels All color bags and crills Hustlers, gotta combine, when you looking for mills Sending them chills, up and down your spine It's the flow of money that make you hungry, homey When you on the block and the heat's to the mack You keep one in the head, when you sitting in your bedroom, counting your stacks Fiends be running like horses on the race track [Hook: Solomon Childs] Listen, I'm on my grizzly, and I'm a paper chaser Although the Glocks be busting, I won't stop Cuz the hot boys are coming [Chorus] [Solomon Childs] Here comes the rule, close ya pharmacy at ten Cuz no matter morning or night Police looking to throw you in the pen Never play the blocks, too jiggy Never let a crack head get too biggie Never rock a walkman or a CD player Cuz muthaf**as is grimey in the hood And won't warn you when they coming for you, playa If you get high, wait til your pack's finished Cuz the paranoia'll stagnate your business Never pull out a knot of money To profile for them b**hes, cuz muthaf**as is snitches You can see 'me walking down the block, when they twitching Last rule, don't be fronting in the kitchen Playing with fire, get ya burnt in the kitchen [Hook] [Chorus] [Solomon Childs] I go the E. on the block, the D. on the block The bread off the block, I be on the block With the cherry red V. on the block You n***as sports wear, NBA gear Fly on the block, clientele off the chain From the taste of the rock, try'nna go behind my back And steal my custies'll get you popped [Hook] [Chorus]