(Like the fire needs the air) (I won't burn unless your there)
Yea, I need you,I need you to hate So I can use you for your energy you know, its real shit, feel this!
[Verse 1] America's got a thing for this gangsta's shit, they love me Black Chucks, black skullies, leather Pelle-Pelle I take spills over raymo shit, I'ma fan Got through the silver duck tape on my 38. handle The women on my life bring confusion shit SO like Nino from New Jack, I'll have to cancel that bitch Look at me, this is the life I chose Niggaz around me so cold, man my heart dun froze up Yo the empire on the low the narc's don't know I'm the weatherman I take that coke leaf and make that snow Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the door O after O, you know, homey I'm just triple beam, dreamin Niggaz be schemin, I'm fiendin to live a good life The fiends just fiendin Conceal my weapon nice and easy so you can't see The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me
[Chorus] I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) Nigga you get in my way when while I'm tryin to get mine And I'll buck you (buck you) I don't care who you run with, or where you from Nigga fuck you (fuck you) I want to find the thing thats in my life So I hustle (hustle)
[Verse 2] Yea, I don't know shit about gymnastics I summersault bricks Black talents start flyin, when a nigga flip I cook crack in the microwave, niggaz can't fuck with me Man my cold days, they called me chef boy are 50 Check my logic, smokers don't like seeds in their weed shit Send me them seeds i'll grow 'em what they need Them ain't chia pet plants in the crib thats chronic And I'm sellin them 500 a pop god damn it I sold everythin I'ma hustler, I know how to grind Step on grapes put in water and tell you its wine If you analyze me, what you'll find is the DNA recrock
What goes in my mind, its contagious Hypnotic, it sounds melodic If the rap was the block or spider, I'll be poke and butter Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key And you can locate me where ever that dope be, gettin money man
[Chorus]
[Verse 3] Its a hustler's ambition, close your eyes listen, see my vision Mossberg pumpin, shotgun dumpin and drama means nothin It's part of the game, catch me in the coupe switchin lanes In the jewels with your chains I upgrade from 30 BS to clean VS Rocks that I copped procedes from the spot I got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline Played it perf and get nauseous, watchin the spinner spin I make plans to make it, a prisoner of the state Now I can invite yo ass out to my estate Them holi tip bent me up, but I'm back in shape Pour Crystal in the blender and make a protein shake I'm like the East coast number one playboy B Hugh Hefner'll tell you he don't got shit on me The feds watch me, icey they can't stop me Racist, pointin at me look at the nigga ratchi Hello!
[Chorus]
*Enviado por "Sekef"
Compositores: Frankie Beverly (Frank Beverly), Curtis James Jackson (50 Cent) ECAD: Obra #1994901 Fonograma #1931838