Lyrics Hustle Town - SPM

Eh he he he he
Hustle Town my city maan!
Born and raised baby
Yo I dedicate this jam to all the single mothers
Raisin' men in a big city
I know it's hard
Let 'em know what's up Filero

I sell drugs with thugs
Hittin' licks off tricks
Workin' two jobs a dope deala and a pimp
Mom's beggin' me to stop everyday
So scared for me to walkâ?¦. Memory lane
But Mom don't worry my teck protect well
I told ya one day this rap shit gone sell
But my heart been broke from the start
Since the day my father died when I was seven in the park
So I wrote the book
How to pimp hoes and kick do's
And if I kill well than that's just how the shit go
Pull yo strap
What am I supposed to sweat
This the third time today that I come close to death

Hustle Town Hustle Town
The city of dreams
Where we creep through the hood
And we serve them dope fiends
Hustle Town
The shit don't stop
Roll rental cars
And we keep the glock cocked
Hustle Town
The city of dreams
Where we creep through the hood
And we serve them dope fiends
Hustle Town
The shit don't stop
Roll rental cars
And we keep the glock cocked

Set 'em up
Wet 'em up
Etceteras
Tell ya treasura
Empty the regista
Shit serious
I'll give ya life a period
Well here he is
The kid with experience
Don't start shit
Mistake me for an artist
Flash in the dark
Someone tell 'em where his heart is
Blue light
Who die?
Tonight
Maybe over two dice
Maybe cause he blew fry
On top of ya
With the Hillwood Mafia
Hard hittin' hustlas
Beat the draws off of ya
Knowledge
While my shit be flawless
Dope House Records step into my office

It's ya boy Lord Loco
Know what I'm talkin' bout
Representin' that H-Town wit my boy SPM
There's a lot of frauds out there know what I'm sayin'
What you think 'bout them fraud ass niggas Los?

Jackin' jaws
I'm packin' balls
Smoke and split
I give mo' gifts than Santa Clause
Wit a cold forty-ounce and a sack of hay
Chug a lug for the thugs who done passed away
Mista da Masta Mystical Mexican Maniac
Competition ha ha
You muthafuckas make me laugh
You a bitch if you hatin' on my Houston hits
I fight devils like you wit a crucifix
Ruthless shit
With a shotty
Take ya body
Gun Kung Fu
Mixed wit AK Karate
I'm sorry but you the past like Atari
As I smoke like Marley
Stay Brown like Charlie