DJ DRAMA & FABOLOUS - Hustlas Poster Child lyrics

rate me

I'm supposed to style, I'm a hustler's poster child

Girls see me they supposed to smile

Hooooooooooooooooo

Can't you tell I get my hustle on

Hooooooooooooooooooo

Can't you tell I get my hustle on

H-U-S-T-L-E-R, Everywhere we go bet they know who we are

Hooooooooooooooooooooo

Can't you tell I get my hustle on

Hooooooooooooooooooooo

Can't you tell I get my hustle on

Now you could ask any hustla ya know, They'll tell ya it's in the wrist

I'm a good cook nigga, Hell of a dinner dish

Get stiffed quick, They say a fella is generous

I could sell stiff dick to Ellen Degeneres

I got a sells pitch, I snm hould do a infomercial

I did Foreman grill numbers on a shrimf of purple

Ya money long, They go to any length to slurp you

So fuck a bitch unless she in the Oprah Winfrey circle

Don't get me wrong, I get at ya honey

But I'm a Bachelor, All I do is spachula money

Scoop it up and flip it, Hoop it up and zip it

Stand over stoves, Soup it up and rip it

I'm a chef that coom up ways to make me rich

Clothing line recipe, Yea I make it rich

Them wire taps make a hustla nervous

You got a problem, Don't call me I ain't customer service

I move heavy weight, I could easily pull a muscle man

Like Tracy Morgan on Martin, Call me hustle man

What you need chief, Coca or the weed leaf

Fuckin with my hustle is only gon breed beef

Went south and came back with shopping bags full of guns

Fresh out the box, Poppin tags on the guns

Carolina drive, Up and down the 95

Got the 40's for 7, But I a nine for 5

Fuck a 9 to 5, I'm a hustleholic

I need rubberbands, These stacks a bust a wallet

The pills pull some money on a good "E" day

Every thing could buy and sell, Hood E-bay

You give me 2 dice, I ride it like the 4 train

Bring more 7 11's then the store chain

Ya gimme 3 of them, I shoot em like a milly clip

Roll more sixes out then a Benz dealership

Yup, You could tell I get my hustle on

The scent of crack in my clothes, You smell I get my hustle on

It's official ya'll I was on my gristle ya'll

And I whipped da raw in a Vlasek pickle jar

Before I Had a deal, I was baggin crills

And I had pills but they wasn't Advils

These rap cats wanna be Nino Brown

But I'm the hustla, I do it like Nino now

I ain't with the phone shit, In '88 I was only 6

I missed dat paper, But now a sixer later

I get it major, Plenty niggas could vouche for me

Like dem niggas that be runnin the coke house 4 me

But it ain't bout what I was, It's bout what I'm bout 2 be

So I wanna shout out Fab 4 lookin out 4 me

I beat my case even tho some niggas was doubtin me

I took dem folks to trial, The poster child