Testi musica canzoni

This is for the hustlas hustlas . . .
That's the way that we hustle 'cause we struggle everyday [everyday . . .].
Pain . . . so much pain.

Come follow me. Now back in the day we still was thuggin' nothin' changed.
Always into somethin' whatever you name it. Young thug with my niggas is one
love. Lil' bad ass niggas sneaky a calm collected slickster. I might not
have been on the scene but you can believe I was in the picture. In the
mixture, sellin' llello, scrappin', carjackin', gunpackin'. I'm lackin'
everything you can imagine so I'm prayin', rappin', they'd get me outta this
jam, damn just gimme a chance. I'll keep 'em dancin' [dancin'] all night [all
night]. When times get harder and harder, my dreams got further and further
away. And nigga, I chased 'em, but couldn't catch 'em to save my life. So now
I'm thuggin' on this corner. I gotta increase my financial status. I chanced
it, fuckin' with these rollers when they roll up. Yeah, don't wanna be locked
in no cell, but I also can't take strippings and be broke with no mail. Oh, yes
it's hell, and they say that gets easier, but to me it !
only got deeper and deeper.

That's the way that we hustle, 'cause we struggle everyday [everyday . . .].
Pain . . . so much pain.

Just turned eightteen and caught my first case: incarcerated--caught with a
twelve gauge. Tryin' to come up with some money and made a stupid-ass
mistake--could have been my niggas fate. Fuckin' with shotguns, we out to rob
some niggas. I'm drunk. I'm pumped. I made a mistake and popped him. Now, he
bleedin', I see blood. Damn, get to the doctor. Nigga, don't rest in peace.
Doctor's took him to emergency. Coppers came and arrested me. Not knowin' if
my nigga had made it alive and was well, I tossed and turned in my cell, annoyed
and sweatin' like hell. Praise to the lord, and I hope you hear me. And I hope
you feel me. I ain't mean to. Really. Really. I ain't mean it. I know you
seen it. I finally spoke to my nigga. He lifted up and recovered and pressed
no charges. Wait, the state done picked it up, and I gotta trial in a month.
Fuck! And the judge ain't tryin' to give me no love, 'cause it was my first
offense, but he just thinkin' he lockin' up a thug [!
up a thug]. So, now I'm cuffed up on the bus and ridin' down '71. Ain't no
fun, no fun, no fun . . .

That's the way that we hustle, 'cause we struggle everyday [everyday . . .].
Pain . . . so much pain.

Now, I'm locked inside this prison system, bitten, count days left on my
sentence. Now I can say that I've been here, but I sure ain't gon' come back
here. Uh-uh. The day they release me, I'm goin' home. I can cope, but I can't
adjust. These fuckin' steel doors drivin' me nuts. My last month, I'm ready to
move out. I'm sure. Stay on the low: I listen to thug stories, and be trippin'
on niggas love stories. I'm fin to get out of this muthafucka--heard 'em call
out my name: 250-2-2-58. Pack up your shit; it's your day. Jumped out my bunk,
give all my shit to my niggas. In fact, I left everything that I had back in
jail but my raps. I'm on the streets now. Scene unchanged--niggas still the
same. I ain't fuckin' with you bustas, 'cause I'm tryin' to make a change. I
got with the real dogs, and we was schemin' on the mill, y'all. So we had to
chill on y'all. Get out of Cleveland, if we planned to achieve it. So we
planned it with Eazy on Greyhound, and now we lea!
vin'.

That's the way that we hustle, 'cause we struggle everyday [everyday . . .].
Pain . . . so much pain