Lyrics

Like the fire needs the air (yeah) I won't burn unless you're there You're there (I need you), ooh I need you (I need you to hate) Like the fire needs the air (so I can use you for your energy) I won't burn unless you're there, you're there (you know, this real shit, feel this) America got a thing for this gangsta shit, they love me Black Chuckas, black skullies, leather Pelle Pelle I tag SPIT over Ramo's shit, I'm a vandal Got that silver duct tape on my trey-eight handle The women in my life bring confusion and shit So like Nino in "New Jack," I holla "Cancel that bitch!" Look at me, this is the life I chose Niggas around me so cold, man my heart done froze I built an empire on the low, the NARC's don't know I'm the weatherman, I take that cocoa leaf and make that snow Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the door O after O, you know? Homie, I'm just triple beam, dreaming, niggas be scheming I fiend to live the good life, the fiends are just fiendin' Conceal my weapon nice and neat so you can't see The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) Nigga you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine And I'll buck you (buck you) I don't care who you run with, or where you from Nigga fuck you (fuck you) I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) Yeah, I 'on't know shit about gymnastics, I somersault bricks Black talons start flying when a nigga flip I cook crack in the microwave, niggas can't fuck with me Man my co-d's call me Chef Boyar-50 Check my logic, smokers don't like seeds in they weed, shit Send me them seeds, I'll grow 'em what they need Them ain't Chia pet plants in the crib, that's chronic And I'm selling them for 500 a pop, goddamn it I sell anything I'ma hustler, I know how to grind Step on grapes, put in water and tell you it's wine If you analyze me, what you'll find is the DNA of a crook and what goes in my mind Is contagious, hypnotic, it sounds melodic If rap was the block or spot, I'd be that potent product Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key And you can locate me wherever that dope be, getting money man I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) Nigga you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine And I'll buck you (buck you) I don't care who you run with, or where you from Nigga fuck you (fuck you) I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) It's a hustler's ambition, close your eyes listen, see my vision Mossberg pumpin', shotgun dumpin' The drama means nothing, it's part of the game Catch me in the coupé switching lanes or in the jeweler switching chains I upgrade from dirty "BS" to clean VS Rocks that I copped proceeds from the spot I got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline Play the curb and get nauseous, watching the spinners spin I made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state Now I can invite yo' ass out to my estate Them hollow tips bent me up, but I'm back in shape Pour Cristal in the blender, make a protein shake I'm like the East coast number one playboy B Hugh Hefner'll tell you he ain't got shit on me The feds watch me, icey, they can't stop me Racist, pointing at me, "Look at Niggaraci", hello I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle) Nigga you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine And I'll buck you (buck you) I don't care who you run with, or where you from Nigga fuck you (fuck you) I want the finer things in my life So I hustle (hustle)
Writer(s): Curtis Jackson, Frankie Beverly, Brian Hughes Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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