Ooh la la, Bangladesh   Heyyy      See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich   Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit   Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes      And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich   'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits   Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone   Fifty songs tucked under the prone      I keep a big old nigga beater heater   It's in the trunk of my four-door and my two seater   I'm make them say skeeter skeeter   Keep up and grab the ball back just like I'm Derek Jeter   I know you want to fuck my hoe but you too scared to meet her   See you ain't got enough bread to even start to treat her   The way a pimp did, and in the bed I'm even sweeter   I hustle, I got more Franklins in me than Aretha      If I had Oprah Winfrey, I would marry her and keep her   I spit as much knowlege as preachers and teachers   Just as long as the message reach us we all fill up the bleachers   I'm the M J G, I get in yo' shit   I ain't trying to run yo' clique, that be your friend so quick   Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage   Fuck them long interviews, just give us the front page   Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust   Them lyrics that make the people say that he got nuts      See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich   Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit   Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes      And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich   'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits   Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone   Fifty songs tucked under the prone      Yeah man   Sticky weed kickin' in, big Ball steppin' in   Straight flying when I hustle, thats how I represent   Bounce, if you feelin' what I'm spitting up in your ear hole   I been rocking mics since I was 17 years old   Smoking up, drinking up, kicking dust, and fucking up   Everybody want a piece and we ain't got enough for us   Yeah, I touched a brick or two, pounds I done smoked a few   Got my bread and didn't do what the fuck I was supposed to do      Money blinds players, turns them into evil spirits   Niggaz die trying to live out these old rap lyrics   I try to give it to them just how it come to me   Real and unedited, not like it be on TV   Be myself and don't be what those haters want me to be   Take the good the bad hit my knees set me free   Make the bad good, put that on my leather and wood   Cinderella with my fellas deep off in the hood   Nigga      See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich   Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit   Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes      And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich   'Til then it's back to hustlin with my misfits   Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone   Fifty songs tucked under the prone      You need to stop sticking your hand out and trying to fold it   Turn around the broom handle and trying to hold it   It's plenty dirt to be swept, and leaves to be raked   Now you need to leave from my face, take heed to mistake   That you just made, thinking a player could get played   Thinking that a rapper could get wrapped and phone tapped   My whole life I learned the hard way to spot liars   And it seems like it's usually the ones thats right by ya   Fire      Jumping up out the tip with pistols sittin' up   Fuck me? Watch my gun skeet like it's bussing nuts   'Cept when it hit your cheek it burn then it split your cheek   Then come out the back of your head, now your just a memory   Graphic how I got it illustrated, rated triple X   Niggaz want to be the king, I don't give a fuck who's best   Just watch your mouth, talkin' down in the south   I'm gonna let my nuts hang and start punching clowns out      See a nigga like me gonna get money till I get rich   Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit   Stay down for whatever forever hustle with my mystic hoes      And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich   'Til then it's back to hustlin' with my misfits   Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone   Fifty songs tucked under the prone