lirik lagu what hustlas do – rigz
[intro]
benny the butcher, n*gga
the butcher coming, n*gga
these n*ggas, these n*ggas ain’t prepared for the wrath i’m gonna bring
[verse 1: benny the butcher]
uh, you stood in front of a fire, that’s how you shopping blaze
they was on them jets and i was still getting caught and raised
i stuck to the script, i had a part to play
on these mics talking grizzy like i’m charlamagne
my old b*tch say we should talk more
i found a better one, then i deaded her
and know that was a smart call
they hit my homie, got my heart soar
raw caine got my name on the dea’s chalk board
yeah, my only [?] in the mirror
no matter what critics say
or how many times they compare us
bought a watch, haters counting how many times i’ma wear it
i was pitiching in the city like mariano rovero
real low sh*t
we sold powder outa [?]
i did magic with that rock like the penny hardaway era
[?] bricks all in stacks
i whip portions back, my wrist did all of that
[chorus]
sh*t, that’s what hustlers do, i’m hustlin’ n*gga
if not that i’m busting at you
what’s the point of telling a story if ain’t none of it is true
some n*ggas lean on coke and some heroin too
i take mental stability to weather this intensities
where you gotta watch you mans more than your enemies
all i know is i’m gon’ eat, bars in these streets
[verse 2]
i’m the south side of the rock where n*ggas get shot
like i’m done talking, when i get back my gun sparking
that n*gga moving, sh*t he’s still alive
my sh*t echo on the chi streets, it’s a five
yeah, come take a seat in my office
i don’t want to talk to you, i wanna speak to your bosses
six feet for the coffin, my hand deep in the faucet
[?] i bought it
my sh*t be shooting r*t*rded
at seventeen, i lost it
i was all in the street, played the corner with crack
thought it was all i could be
now look, i seen twenty*eight, try make it straight
but i keep coming short, n*gga keep taking [?]
your mother found out you’re dead
i bet she won’t take it great
bet i won’t leave your grib without taking out the safe
look, chi hits your neck with all disrespect
a few inches left, your sh*t would’ve disconnect
[chorus]
sh*t, that’s what hustlers do, i’m hustlin’ n*gga
if not that i’m busting at you
what’s the point of telling a story if ain’t none of it is true
some n*ggas lean on coke and some heroin too
i take mental stability to weather this intensities
where you gotta watch you mans more than your enemies
all i know is i’m gon’ eat, bars in these streets
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