Rap's a Hustle Lyrics
| Song | Rap's a Hustle |
| Artist | Cormega |
| Album | The Realness |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Dorrell, McKay | |
| I'ma pimp, a pen's my hoe | |
| She don't ever move 'til | |
| I say so Her only purpose in life is get me large | |
| I got my pen workin' 16 bars | |
| When I'm happy she happy, sad she sad | |
| She make sure we both have | |
| She know I got plenty more ready to replace her | |
| Bitch better have mine | |
| I'm not lettin' no pen get out of line | |
| You get it, | |
| I mean, can you dig it | |
| She committed to me, she please niggas for me | |
| My shit's so tight, she leave a nigga for me | |
| I met her in a studio, she caught my eye | |
| She was with a mac, over kickin' whack ass rhymes | |
| I needed a pen, so he let me borrow her | |
| Like my shit ain't ill enough to overpower her | |
| I see he wasn't treatin' her right | |
| I gave her some paper | |
| And let her do her thing that night | |
| Thats right, | |
| I took her from that playa | |
| He to concerned with his money and his data | |
| She told me, shit he be kickin' be so weak | |
| I told him, your hoe chose me | |
| I'm goldie | |
| Be cool, or we can make the heat come out | |
| Your pen work for me 'til the ink run out (playa) [Chorus] | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I'm goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets nigga [Verse 2] | |
| My rap is uncut raw, out the door | |
| Type shit to have fiends lookin' for more | |
| Your rap is lactose; you cooked up, the glass broke | |
| Customers complainin', some never comin' back yo | |
| My rap flow is pure all white, in the hood all night | |
| You made your first sale when | |
| I sold out | |
| My shit numbs your whole mouth, yours leaves a foul taste | |
| My rhyme's a felony, yours never seen a trial date | |
| You need a legal aid, my pen got the | |
| DA's paid | |
| My flows sleepin' in a cave | |
| No day's I got the streets in this mad | |
| You need a mask to prepare the ? here | |
| It's heated glass once | |
| I flip this track | |
| You should see my stash, | |
| I got rhymes for days | |
| Fuckin' right crime pays, | |
| I stay deliverin, ain't no middle man | |
| I never short my mans or cross my fans | |
| Or switch my supply when money cross my hand | |
| It's funny, | |
| I'm here, unlike like the crew | |
| I used to roll wit' | |
| Yall might as well work for me, | |
| I got that clientele | |
| You put too much cut in that stuff yall tried to sell | |
| That's the reason why your empire fell like | |
| Goliath I'm supplyin' ghettos and satisfyin' | |
| Marks NARC's is analiyzin', askin' why this kid out bridge is commin' through with platinum sound' and | |
| Bringin' heat to the street like if | |
| I had the iron (for real) [Chorus] | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I'm goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo |
| zuo qu : Dorrell, McKay | |
| I' ma pimp, a pen' s my hoe | |
| She don' t ever move ' til | |
| I say so Her only purpose in life is get me large | |
| I got my pen workin' 16 bars | |
| When I' m happy she happy, sad she sad | |
| She make sure we both have | |
| She know I got plenty more ready to replace her | |
| Bitch better have mine | |
| I' m not lettin' no pen get out of line | |
| You get it, | |
| I mean, can you dig it | |
| She committed to me, she please niggas for me | |
| My shit' s so tight, she leave a nigga for me | |
| I met her in a studio, she caught my eye | |
| She was with a mac, over kickin' whack ass rhymes | |
| I needed a pen, so he let me borrow her | |
| Like my shit ain' t ill enough to overpower her | |
| I see he wasn' t treatin' her right | |
| I gave her some paper | |
| And let her do her thing that night | |
| Thats right, | |
| I took her from that playa | |
| He to concerned with his money and his data | |
| She told me, shit he be kickin' be so weak | |
| I told him, your hoe chose me | |
| I' m goldie | |
| Be cool, or we can make the heat come out | |
| Your pen work for me ' til the ink run out playa Chorus | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I' m goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets nigga Verse 2 | |
| My rap is uncut raw, out the door | |
| Type shit to have fiends lookin' for more | |
| Your rap is lactose you cooked up, the glass broke | |
| Customers complainin', some never comin' back yo | |
| My rap flow is pure all white, in the hood all night | |
| You made your first sale when | |
| I sold out | |
| My shit numbs your whole mouth, yours leaves a foul taste | |
| My rhyme' s a felony, yours never seen a trial date | |
| You need a legal aid, my pen got the | |
| DA' s paid | |
| My flows sleepin' in a cave | |
| No day' s I got the streets in this mad | |
| You need a mask to prepare the ? here | |
| It' s heated glass once | |
| I flip this track | |
| You should see my stash, | |
| I got rhymes for days | |
| Fuckin' right crime pays, | |
| I stay deliverin, ain' t no middle man | |
| I never short my mans or cross my fans | |
| Or switch my supply when money cross my hand | |
| It' s funny, | |
| I' m here, unlike like the crew | |
| I used to roll wit' | |
| Yall might as well work for me, | |
| I got that clientele | |
| You put too much cut in that stuff yall tried to sell | |
| That' s the reason why your empire fell like | |
| Goliath I' m supplyin' ghettos and satisfyin' | |
| Marks NARC' s is analiyzin', askin' why this kid out bridge is commin' through with platinum sound' and | |
| Bringin' heat to the street like if | |
| I had the iron for real Chorus | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I' m goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo |
| zuò qǔ : Dorrell, McKay | |
| I' ma pimp, a pen' s my hoe | |
| She don' t ever move ' til | |
| I say so Her only purpose in life is get me large | |
| I got my pen workin' 16 bars | |
| When I' m happy she happy, sad she sad | |
| She make sure we both have | |
| She know I got plenty more ready to replace her | |
| Bitch better have mine | |
| I' m not lettin' no pen get out of line | |
| You get it, | |
| I mean, can you dig it | |
| She committed to me, she please niggas for me | |
| My shit' s so tight, she leave a nigga for me | |
| I met her in a studio, she caught my eye | |
| She was with a mac, over kickin' whack ass rhymes | |
| I needed a pen, so he let me borrow her | |
| Like my shit ain' t ill enough to overpower her | |
| I see he wasn' t treatin' her right | |
| I gave her some paper | |
| And let her do her thing that night | |
| Thats right, | |
| I took her from that playa | |
| He to concerned with his money and his data | |
| She told me, shit he be kickin' be so weak | |
| I told him, your hoe chose me | |
| I' m goldie | |
| Be cool, or we can make the heat come out | |
| Your pen work for me ' til the ink run out playa Chorus | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I' m goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets nigga Verse 2 | |
| My rap is uncut raw, out the door | |
| Type shit to have fiends lookin' for more | |
| Your rap is lactose you cooked up, the glass broke | |
| Customers complainin', some never comin' back yo | |
| My rap flow is pure all white, in the hood all night | |
| You made your first sale when | |
| I sold out | |
| My shit numbs your whole mouth, yours leaves a foul taste | |
| My rhyme' s a felony, yours never seen a trial date | |
| You need a legal aid, my pen got the | |
| DA' s paid | |
| My flows sleepin' in a cave | |
| No day' s I got the streets in this mad | |
| You need a mask to prepare the ? here | |
| It' s heated glass once | |
| I flip this track | |
| You should see my stash, | |
| I got rhymes for days | |
| Fuckin' right crime pays, | |
| I stay deliverin, ain' t no middle man | |
| I never short my mans or cross my fans | |
| Or switch my supply when money cross my hand | |
| It' s funny, | |
| I' m here, unlike like the crew | |
| I used to roll wit' | |
| Yall might as well work for me, | |
| I got that clientele | |
| You put too much cut in that stuff yall tried to sell | |
| That' s the reason why your empire fell like | |
| Goliath I' m supplyin' ghettos and satisfyin' | |
| Marks NARC' s is analiyzin', askin' why this kid out bridge is commin' through with platinum sound' and | |
| Bringin' heat to the street like if | |
| I had the iron for real Chorus | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo | |
| Only the strong survive, | |
| I was born to rhyme | |
| Put me on the streets and | |
| I' m goin' for mine | |
| Money talks and bullshit walks | |
| Rap is a hustle, yo |
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