Lyrics Hustle - YoungBloodZ , Killer Mike

Yea, youngbloodz, kill the mic, track boys
Yall ain′t ready for this shit,
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea

Ok we back and bumpin, youngbloodz that's us fo sho
From left to right we rockin and kickin down every door
Watch out now get ′em shawty, oh that's them U-way boys
We set it off don't get twist it still out makin noise
Big pistol that′s my word, ice cold is so superb
3 hits 4 shots I′m on it, runnin you up off the curb
So bring your A-game, we bringin hella pain
You disrespect my sip ill pop your back like pootytank
So if your ready run it, we got that shit that will
I'm from atlanta steady bouncin blowin off the grill
Cuz in the trunk its bumpin, we goin all night long
So grab a cup cuz ain′t no way in hell you goin home

[Chorus]
I wont get my crime around
I hustle baby
I stay down every time no day
I hustle baby
From the track or the trap fo sand
I hustle baby
No day I hustle baby no day gotta hustle baby
I wont get my crime around
I hustle baby
I stay down every time no day
I hustle baby
From the track or the trap fo sand
I hustle baby
No day I hustle baby no day gotta hustle baby

I'm a crime time hustler man, I tried to tell ′em
My crew cuz its the ex-convict, convicted fellon
Banana clips bazmellons of all these stitches tellin
The bitches of bazballers and secrets of shotcallers
Of better rounds of scoppin he said lue a-town to oakland
Niggas prayin and hopin, they don't get caught with dope and
Out a catin and a crippin in chicago they folkin
Down south we got 36 oles trapin and focus
This is no hocus pocus, play the game like locus
Playas vibe up and whittin I′m the third cosmosis

[Chorus]

My pimpin is old school, and they chevy with bleak shoes
Tip tops and flip flops, adidas and suede pumas
Who nigga fo like yall they never goin change that
They slang goin where I hang and my bitches they whod-a-rest
And we all drink du-duces of dat go for 5
We'll put that hot heat like between your eyes
And I keep it under the seat in the summer they sweatin me
Comin down your street with beat sittin on some chesly feet
Outta town in that's gold rims, fo shawty be servin dem
Everytime my chevy stop my rims they still spin
A-town for life yall we never goin change that
Still roll with them dope boys on the bow with them J′s at

[Chorus]

[Repeat chorus till end]