Hustlers Nas (Ft. The Game & Marsha Ambrosius)

[Intro: Nas]
Dre, he a Compton-Compton O.G
Nas, he a QB-QB true G
Do the history

[Verse 1: Nas]
Way before The Firm, like back in the day
Nas was the first New York nigga rappin' with Dre
So of course I got a track to bring it back to your face
The one kid that would've been Aftermath that got away
But we still get together, like, every several years
To sprinkle a little bit of Heaven for your ears
Relax, sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, no G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cape Cod, and watching fly bitches with gray eyes
Wrestle in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? ‘Cause I can vision
Collages and images of my lies with no regret to hate
So every breath I take is all about the rules
It's hard for you to breathe, like you at high altitude
So crack the Patron, it's on heathens
The God's back, hard body, Mr. Jones never leavin'

[Chorus: Marsha Ambrosius]
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
East to West Coast, we riders
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
East to West Coastin' O.G