Hustlers and Customers Lupe Fiasco

[Verse One]

Professional thugs, police raids, federal bugs
Who else is here, Belvidere, several jugs
Home made rocks, eye-drops, and medical drugs
Selling you for revenue, sell and use incredible plugs
A shell or two no respect for you edible slugs
Execute feds arresting you
You confess to a lesser two without even pressing you
Before the questions through, you leaking street names and addresses too
The block fiends, I lock things, stones I sling
Rock jeans, grab Glocks cocked under boxed springs
Most niggas want money and power
Half of them niggas is funny and cowards get hit with dummies and flour
Most niggas sleeping, like lights out hours
But I'm eating, trying to ice out hours
The spoon to the floor, the glass to the door
Take the flash off the Ford about to mash on you all

[Hook]

It's Hustlers & Customers and
Niggas and snitches and
Players who want to profit and haters who want to stop it
It's snakes up in the grass and fakes who want your cash
Lock your daughter door and cock your fourty-four