Luyện nghe bài hát Hustler Remix

9th, the remix right?
So we gon' do is
Further define the term "hustling"
fools on the radio got people thinkin
you gotta sell dope or, be a killer or but
You could be in right now
On your way to school or, on your way work
You could be, flippin burgers, doin corp
You still a motherfuckin hustler go

A lot of castin shade on the classic that we made but
Say what you say we ask to get paid
And I might get laid if the gets played
So throw this on the radio like 50 a day
I got my dude the Yay, and my boy from H-Town
hard in the paint, with my man from Smackdown
And you gotta down, cause the grind don't cease
While dudes likes is hard to find in the streets
I hustle like the homey Fo-Five, rest in
While you a lot about your glock, never had to walk the walk
You ain't a gangster homeboy, just a who likes to talk a lot
That's why you got your chain snatched in a Roscoe's lot
In the C-I-T-Y
One melt the ice on your favorite rap guy
No Jacob on my wrist, cause that's not I'm about
But I will find time to knock your rapper out
And I'm a

2X: Murs]
H-U-S-T-L-E
You'll never a dime that ain't mine motherfucker
not to be broken have to stroll like a sucker
So pay me you owe me and don't play with me homey

Huh, it out
ain't gon' give it to you late (late)
E-40-Water gon' it to you straight, way before 1988 (8)
I to quarterback weight (weight)
Did whatever it had to to put out my first tape (tape)
Tryin to outsmart the boys in
knew how much I made (made)
I used to throw 'em off with my glasses and my fade (fade)
But I never pedalled woofy just A-1 yo-yo mayne (mayne)
That's off my cocoa (leaf)
Stapler in my du-duh-du-duhs, hubbles my booty cheeks
The same old for weeks (weeks) gritty and sabalosa
A turfed out motherfucker, in a Granada roper (roper)
Sippin on King (Cobra) bankroll full of huns (huns)
that Public Enemy, "Mi uzi Weighs a Ton"
(Ton) Oooh, and it was off to the (hood)
boy from Vallejo, that player done made it GOOD! (good)
And I wish a would, try to knock my hustle (hustle)
these motherfuckers I was brought up in the struggle!

[Chingo
Chingo the boss, I could never get a layoff
would shutdown if Mexicans took the day off
Freeways, construction keys, and nines
we hustlin, end of discussion
one dos tamales tres tamales 4
when chingo needs money he'll be kickin down your door
This is for my slangers and in wranglers and rustlers
We bangin on no justice just us
of the hustle, is mind over muscle
Chingo be "Tango & Cash" like Kurt Russell
Bootleggers Chingo cause my shit really sells
If they was bootleggin you, they could barely pay the
Streets ju got heart, ju dudes is pop tart
One good you get knocked out the pop charts
That's why I grind from the up
see me nowadays I be bling blowed up, Ching bling

[John
Yo Murs, this John Cena the WWE
Fillin you in on a struggle
The struggle that takes in four corners y'know
And it go this
You think all fun and games but this shit is no joke
The type of where the millionaires be cuttin ya throat
They move quick but I'm quicker, Cen' stiffer than liquor
You fall by the wayside I ain't lay wit'cha
Born to movin, provin 'em wrong
A straight hustler, stay true to the
In the street they shot heat to try to a beef
In the circle, you feel the metal to teeth
plus everybody lovin you, when you feedin 'em
You fall off you look you'll be seein who fake
A true hustler, fall on his and keep risin
So just when counted me out, I surprised 'em
Fuck a dollar out of 15 cents, when I be in
My punch make money appear, out of oxygen
As long as I'm breathin, my will swell
And John the kid, that go through hell for a cell, what?