"Hustla World" lyrics
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
They call me Mexican Hendrix, my rap style is electric
We been tryin' for years, my pocket finally pregnant
My little wonder's a joy, is it a Mexican boy?
No, mom [?] I named him Benjamins Coy
I'm talkin' dead ass presidents, driving S-Class elegance
Buyin' digits and gadgets that fuckin' send fast messages
And Carley wants a pony and a baby giraffe
She even promised she would clean the poop and take him a bath
I celebrate with cigars, no more breakin' in cars
We even missed the parades, we was afraid they would charge
No more drivin' in buckets or eatin' non-brand nuggets
Dogs barkin' at the growlin' in our damn stomachs
See, these others is cryin' wolf and ain't even lyin' good
I'm pourin' whole 40s 'cause I come from a dyin' hood
My hope I'd to write a book and show them the fight it took
Remember when I lost them two OZs tryna cook
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
The eyes of broken hearts, the lives that broke apart
Turn in the ignition, close your eyes and hope it start
My rhyme is so bizarre, it sleeps with the fish
You never find another flow that go deeper than this
I'm here to retell stories, through every detailed verse
But I must ask you to fasten up your seatbelts first
I'm gonna take you to a world without risking your life
Bloody visions, hell's prisons, listen, this is the price
Wonder why the money makes a man take and destroy
Because the money is the push behind Satan's employ
The devil's hook hides deep inside big-face bills
You either die or you finding out how this place feels
I've looked at six straight meals and still not sure what it is
See, in prison most niggas can't just order some ribs
And before a steel shank puts a dude in the earth
A motherfucker gon' die from the food that they serve, for real
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
Still, I gotta thank Jesus, 'cause if I wasn't here, I'd have some holes in my head, I mean, aside from my ears
'Cause the hate was so close, I could smell death near me
Every gun I ever bought, money well spent, feel me?
All the fine ass bitches show the Mexican love
But what the hell do you expect? I'm at the Gentleman's Club
Spending hundred-dollar bills, shit, don't let me begin
'Cause every time I leave the place, I feel empty again
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
They call me Mexican Hendrix, my rap style is electric
We been tryin' for years, my pocket finally pregnant
My little wonder's a joy, is it a Mexican boy?
No, mom [?] I named him Benjamins Coy
I'm talkin' dead ass presidents, driving S-Class elegance
Buyin' digits and gadgets that fuckin' send fast messages
And Carley wants a pony and a baby giraffe
She even promised she would clean the poop and take him a bath
I celebrate with cigars, no more breakin' in cars
We even missed the parades, we was afraid they would charge
No more drivin' in buckets or eatin' non-brand nuggets
Dogs barkin' at the growlin' in our damn stomachs
See, these others is cryin' wolf and ain't even lyin' good
I'm pourin' whole 40s 'cause I come from a dyin' hood
My hope I'd to write a book and show them the fight it took
Remember when I lost them two OZs tryna cook
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
The eyes of broken hearts, the lives that broke apart
Turn in the ignition, close your eyes and hope it start
My rhyme is so bizarre, it sleeps with the fish
You never find another flow that go deeper than this
I'm here to retell stories, through every detailed verse
But I must ask you to fasten up your seatbelts first
I'm gonna take you to a world without risking your life
Bloody visions, hell's prisons, listen, this is the price
Wonder why the money makes a man take and destroy
Because the money is the push behind Satan's employ
The devil's hook hides deep inside big-face bills
You either die or you finding out how this place feels
I've looked at six straight meals and still not sure what it is
See, in prison most niggas can't just order some ribs
And before a steel shank puts a dude in the earth
A motherfucker gon' die from the food that they serve, for real
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
Still, I gotta thank Jesus, 'cause if I wasn't here, I'd have some holes in my head, I mean, aside from my ears
'Cause the hate was so close, I could smell death near me
Every gun I ever bought, money well spent, feel me?
All the fine ass bitches show the Mexican love
But what the hell do you expect? I'm at the Gentleman's Club
Spending hundred-dollar bills, shit, don't let me begin
'Cause every time I leave the place, I feel empty again
Just a gangster mind up in a hustler world
Growin' up a nigga couldn't even trust my girl
Unzip my hoodie and I draw the strap
Either that or get zipped in a body bag
So many of 'em die and the wounds don't heal
Make me wonder what's the real definition of real
Never thought that a paper may even save my life
It's nothing but the truth as I raise my right
