Hustler lyric nas

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Dre, he a Compton, Compton O. Mix that with a QB-QB true G What you got's A concoction of some different ghetto blocks West Coast kill the tracks East Coast gunshots [The Game]eleven years from the day I'm in the record shop with choices to make "Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the left homie Wanna cop both but only got a twenty on me So fuck it, I stole both, spent the twenty on a dub sack Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and bumped that For my niggaz it was too complex when Nas rhymed I was the only Compton nigga with a "New York State of Mind" Inside the dope house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm Dre was king then so I waited my turn Fast forward, now I'm makin 'em burn Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson was learned So I reconciled my differences like he did with Jigga I stopped beefin' with niggaz, 'cause I'm "Ether" to niggaz Comb the earth 'til there's no one left "If I Ruled the World" I summons all you weak rap niggaz to death [Chorus: Why not add your own? User does not exist. Nas, he a QB-QB true G Do the history 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' Calico in Rio, stupid fuckers Low-key, know G's, but it's still Gucci luggage I love Cape Cod, and watchin' fly bitches with grey eyes wrestle in a tub of KY to get my day by I like to celebrate, why? Jones never leaving 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 Coast we riders He a Compton-Compton O.

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Why not add your own?

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Hustlers Lyrics

Jones never leavin' [Chorus 1] Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders Make that cake, cop two five fivers Pimps and players, platinum diamonds East to West Coast we riders [Chorus 2: Login with Google Error: Kiss And Make Up. Westcoast kill the tracks, Eastcoast gun Log in now to add this track to your mixtape! Login with Facebook Error: Mix that with a qb-Qb true G What you got's A concoction of some different ghetto blocks West Coast kill the tracks East Coast gunshots [The Game]eleven years from the day I'm in the record shop with choices to make "Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the left homie Wanna cop both but only got a twenty on me So fuck it, I stole both, spent the twenty on a dub sack Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and bumped that For my niggaz it was too complex when Nas rhymed I was the only Compton nigga with a "New York State of Mind" Inside the dope house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm Dre was king then so I waited my turn Fast forward, now I'm makin 'em burn Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson was learned So I reconciled my differences like he did with Jigga I stopped beefin' with niggaz, 'cause I'm "Ether" to niggaz Comb the earth 'til there's no one left "If I Ruled the World" I summons all you weak rap niggaz to death [Chorus:

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