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1-900-hustler Lyrics

{1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy What's the problem shorty? Yeah
Whattup man I'm the only nigga from Brooklyn out here man I'm tryin' to
Lock the spot down, holla at me Alright, hold on, Hova, line one}

Here's a couple of suggestions of how you could finesse it
You find a dude in town, you send him a short message
Say, "Hey, I'm new in town, I don't know my way around
But I got some soft white that's sure to come back brown
I get that butter all night
'Cause most niggaz don't know a brick from a bike
They keep buyin' hard white
And if you free tomorrow night we can meet and discuss price
FYI, I never been robbed in my life"

Or you find a chick, shit, you hole up in her crib and
Let her introduce you 'round town like her man
Shake hands, make friends like it's all innocent
Then before they look up you sellin' the town cook-up
Or gorilla pimp, come up on that killer shit
Take a nigga brick, smack him, then you sell it back to them
Still there Brooklyn?

Yeah yeah that's gangsta, I think I'ma roll with that one
Make out a check for eight hundred dollars
Jigga Man, holla

{1-900 Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy Whassup Sig? This Chris out the
Young Guns dog Whattup? I'm ready to smash these niggaz in the rap game The
Niggaz takin' too long with that advance money and shit Yeah Talkin' 'bout
Chill, chill don't pay the bills Yeah I feel that I know you well connected
Dog Let me holla at somebody real Alight look, I got the perfect person for
You, hold on Bleek, line two}

Listen shorty, you wanna roll just give me the word
I ain't got time for a sentence all that shit is absurd
You find a strip first, if you don't cook find a bitch first
If you don't hustle find a nigga who pitch first
You new in town, no red and blue in town, there's gangs
Don't get fresh, let 'em know you small change
The strong move quiet, the weak start riots
We know you got a brick but sell 'em twenties 'til they tired

With no credit, you know you sick with that gotta eat fetish
And other niggaz who gettin' it dead it
Make 'em an offer that they can't refuse
He resists, box him in, 'til he can't be moved
Here's the rules, chop it, bag it, stash it, stack it
Get in, get out - that's a O.G.'s classic
900-Hustler, you pass it around
Wanna speak to me direct, hit extension trey-pound, I'm out

{1-900 Hustler, Sigel, holla at your dog What seem to be the problem young
Boy? Yo whattup, this murder def kill homicide nigga I got two freaks Yo
Watch your f*ckin' mouth man f*ck you mean watch my mouth nigga? Been on
Hold for about two hours nigga I don't give a f*ck how long you been on the
Line Shut the f*ck up! Matter of fact, hold on I know this nigga ain't just
Put, put me on hold man This bullshit, ass elevator music Free, pick up
Line five}

First things first, watch what you say out your mouth
When you talkin' on the phone to hustlers
Never play the house, think drought, keep heat in the couch
When you sittin' in the presence of customers
Never hold out, pull out, throw heat and be out
If a nigga ever think that he touchin' ya
Lay low, get cake, whip all over the state
Stash dough, whip yay with, right amount of bake
(Hoe! )

Nigga too close went right around his place
(Yo! )
You stoppin' dough when we clutchin' the gats?
I know you heard "Friend or Foe," this ain't different from that
Make sure you got your four-four and he can slip if he like
Young, Jon Benet doin' a mission tonight and yo
Until you up stay away from them dice and whores
Three smuts, two streaks and a Dyke
Can pause one-three rumbles two streaks and a pipe for sure

And if it's tight, then he might come back for more
Nine and four, everyday back and forth
Winter to summer, 1-900-Hustler
Pass the number 'til you're stackin' balls
Tell you how to weigh shit wet and package more
I take cash or write the check out to F-R
Two E's, that'll be two G's
And forget my money I'm comin' for all your ki's, nigga

{1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy dog Yo whattup young, you put me
On hold earlier man what happened Yeah you stupid motherf*cker MDKHN, Watch
Your mouth man You talkin' all reckless on the phone f*ck you think this
The, Get indicted hotline or somethin' motherf*cker? Yo, my bad man, my bad
I know I was talkin' reckless earlier about them two chickens You get it,
You know, two chickens? But listen What? Just tell me how to move this shit
Man I'm pushin' hardly half a wing back nigga, holla Get a job, holla at
Purdue! }

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these lyrics are submitted by BURKUL4
Songwriter(s): Leslie Priden, Aram Robert Schifrin, Malik Cox, Michael James Zager, Roosevelt Iii Harrell, Shawn Carter

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