Hustler Lyrics

These are the lyrics to song Hustler as performed by 50 Cent

Lyrics to song Hustler by 50 Cent

Intro:
Don't make this complicated (don't make it!)
My old school candy painted (for real!)
I hustle hard
When I come through they're like "Oh my God!" (that nigga clean!)

Chorus:
From the beginning it was written I suppose
I break a whole on the thirty-six O'S - and move it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby (say what?)
My mind on the money, I ain't tripping on the hoes
I blow a whole lot of paper on clothes, but dig it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby

Verse 1:
Yeah!
I come through, I have the hoes like "Ooh-wee"
Seats in the old school Louie
The shoes and the belt buckle Louie
We don't need more details now, do we?
Let 'em sag, my swag is True Religion
You gon' need Cartier frames to see my vision
It smells like Creed mixed with weed, this is classy and hood
Drama llama time nigga what's good?
Dominos muh'fucker, it's time to collect
Stack paper like I'm trying to fix the national debt (Wo, a-wo.)
I'm just doing what I wanna do, I trip through your set
This is fifty-thousand on that Muammar Gaddafi shit

Chorus:
From the beginning it was written I suppose
I break a whole on the thirty-six O'S - and move it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby (say what?)
My mind on the money, I ain't tripping on the hoes
I blow a whole lot of paper on clothes, but dig it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby

Verse 2:
Get on my level, bitch, I'm careful who I kick it with
We talk market and distribution and politics (Wo, a-wo.)
Got a chip on my shoulder, chip off the whole block
I sell the chip of a whole rock, ten dollars a pop
I'm a magnet, the bitch can't help but watch me
Socks, drawers, undershirt, Versace, Versace, Versace
Designer threads in every form of fashion (uh-uh)
I express myself so the question I'm asking (aw-aw!)
Is this flip or the next flip tailor fifty-thousand shit?
We ain't promised tomorrow, nigga, go on and get the shit (yeah)
That skull and bones, that Alexander McQueen thing
In case you ain't notice it's a Queens thing (Wo, a-wo.)

Chorus:
From the beginning it was written I suppose
I break a whole on the thirty-six O'S - and move it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby (say what?)
My mind on the money, I ain't tripping on the hoes
I blow a whole lot of paper on clothes, but dig it
I'm a hustler, baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler, baby

Outro:
Oh-oh! It's cold out here
It's my kind of weather, I'm cold-blooded
It's fifty-thousand, when I come through you see me, in a Suburbans
In this bullet-proof, bomb-proof, leather six whatever
When I go hard I go hard
When I don't want you to see me I switch it up
I'm in that black-on-black Porsche Panamera
In the back like, ooh-wee, we rolling
I hustle man, it's what I do man
What a nigga gon', what a nigga gon' try to tell me?
How to do this?