[Chorus: Kanye West]
And we gone stay hustling on the block until we caught
And we gone stay showing off that jewelry that we bought
And we gone stay heated in case it's in and out of court
Cause we some gangstas, I don't know what the fuck you thought
[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Sometimes I think that I gotta see a little bit of brighter days
Cause I confine myself to a city near you in a solid cage
And you could look to the left and the right, but I'm trapped on center stage
And I could rap to the beat, but I don't know how to change my wage
I still hear a pull and I track 'em, and strack 'em, and whack 'em
Jack a nigga for the Dana Danes and I yak 'em, attack 'em, and sack 'em
Get a weapon and I crack his brain cause I'm hustler, baller, pro
And it wouldn't be right for me to be around busters, and crawlers, and hoes
But I'm a pimp at night so talk shit and I'm gonna lift 'em up off of their toes
With a street sweeper regulating quarters, and ki's, and o's
In the two seater, Ludacris and Twista with bags of 'dro
Smoking and choking, get 'em up and croaking
It's so potent, I'm hoping to keep on floating
Soaking wet and you can bet, people I'm high
I'm seeing lions, and tigers and bears - oh my!
And I can't hide it and keep it hidden, good riddance of feeling good
I'm weapon-concealing, stealing my neighborhood
Would, could, and should break a nigga off
They'll see you later, go to the doctor, hold my balls and (cough)
Because the vapors and I caught the drawn, brain blown, honey I'm home
Give me the microphone, and fools is like, "leave me alone!"
And we gone stay hustling on the block until we caught
And we gone stay showing off that jewelry that we bought
And we gone stay heated in case it's in and out of court
Cause we some gangstas, I don't know what the fuck you thought
[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Sometimes I think that I gotta see a little bit of brighter days
Cause I confine myself to a city near you in a solid cage
And you could look to the left and the right, but I'm trapped on center stage
And I could rap to the beat, but I don't know how to change my wage
I still hear a pull and I track 'em, and strack 'em, and whack 'em
Jack a nigga for the Dana Danes and I yak 'em, attack 'em, and sack 'em
Get a weapon and I crack his brain cause I'm hustler, baller, pro
And it wouldn't be right for me to be around busters, and crawlers, and hoes
But I'm a pimp at night so talk shit and I'm gonna lift 'em up off of their toes
With a street sweeper regulating quarters, and ki's, and o's
In the two seater, Ludacris and Twista with bags of 'dro
Smoking and choking, get 'em up and croaking
It's so potent, I'm hoping to keep on floating
Soaking wet and you can bet, people I'm high
I'm seeing lions, and tigers and bears - oh my!
And I can't hide it and keep it hidden, good riddance of feeling good
I'm weapon-concealing, stealing my neighborhood
Would, could, and should break a nigga off
They'll see you later, go to the doctor, hold my balls and (cough)
Because the vapors and I caught the drawn, brain blown, honey I'm home
Give me the microphone, and fools is like, "leave me alone!"
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!