Mag - Thugs & Hustlers lyrics

[Intro: (Mag)] Aw sh**! Here we go! Aw there go my n***as over there! Yeah there go my thugs over there! There go them b**hes over there! Look out for shots for my real n***as! [Chorus:] Where my thugs, where my hustlers at? Where my thugs, where my hustlers at? Say what? Where my thugs, where my hustlers at? Where my thuss, where my hustlers at? Say what? The Henny's in me, you can't change that Crack the blunt, roll that b**h up, where my thugs at? Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at The Henny's in me, you can't change that Crack the blunt, roll that b**h up, where my thugs at? Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at [Mag] Now why should locs give a f**? What? n***a my mental's stuck I gotta be dirty damn near all the time, strapped the f** up Post the f** up, Smoked the f** up, locced the f** up When the po po come we don't choke the f** up, punk b**h a** n***as know they can't run with me Real a** n***as they get it done with me Because they want with me Ha, it's just the low life I live sh** forever we ride, dub sac, my homey done died My head stays busted All motherf**in day, off that Henny blessed with Alhezay Hey, what, gangstafied, bout it bout it til I die n***a Bounce to this and if you dig it press rewind [Treach] See now my thugs do the gangsta and the k**in and stealin While my hustlers do the bankin and the dealin for millions My pimps be curlin, crimpin, straight pimpin and illin My gangsta thugs on this club on the motherf**in realin See, some motherf**ers got loot to get It's just some motherf**ers can't shoot for sh** So my hustlers call my thugs for the slugs for the hit And yeah my thugs roll and shoot in the hoop like a six Came from east to the west playin steelo with Beelow n***as fought drinkin corpse, too much cut on the kilos So we took every j**el that he just bought from Tito Then Beelow rolled him through the desert Left him bleedin in Reno, without a C-note A section or a solid to sell it Ain't married f** a ring, save the carats for rabbits Cuz a pimp and a thug and a hustler know You trick your grip, the b**h got rich and you's the hoe, woah [Chorus] [Krayzie Bone] You see them packin n***as goin in the club, token, smokin bud Ain't no security at the door so they ain't even get touched Now they better tear this motherf**er up If you one of them n***as, us Straight to the parkin, lift them n***a what We all thugged out, got on khakis, fatigues and boots Just watchin all the loud talkers floss they cheese and j**els Clean diamond rings and suits, we ain't hatin n***a we hungry And we'll rob your a** with the quickness if you show me the money Call it whatever my n***a but I call it being a thug and a hustler And you gotta have the nuts to be both And I gotta roll with the raws And get with the steady regardless f**, how much your b**h and how many n***as you with See we the ones that like to crash the party Drink all the forties up and disrespect every n***a in there Cuz we don't give a f** (we don't) Just cuz I be rappin and all my records went platinum Don't exactly mean I had to get rid of my Thug Mentality But I know some n***as be fakin themselves That's cuz they hoes And when they get caught up in confrontations they be scared as hell Ain't nothin wrong with bein a thug, but y'all got to keep it real So don't you get your a** on wax tellin lies about how you live Now I dedicate this to my real strugglers Make em feel ya, f** makin em love ya And y'all gon learn, them thugs and hustlers Hustlers, hustlers