JAY-Z, Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek, Freeway - 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 niggas don't know a
Brick from a bite
They keep buying 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'mma roll with that one

Make out a check for eight hundred dollars
Jigga Man, holla click, dial tone

The niggas takin too long with
That advance money and shit




Let me holla at somebody real

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
That'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 niggas 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 OG's classic
900-Hustler, you pass it around
Wanna speak to me direct
Hit extension trey-pound, i'm out
Click, dial tone

What seem to be the problem young boy?




Click, classical type music plays



First things first
Watch what you say out your mouth
When you talkin on the phone to hus-tlers
Never play the house, think drought
Keep heat in the couch
When you sittin in the presence of cus-tomers
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 (ho)
Nigga too close went right around his place
(yo)
You stoppin dough when we clutching the gas
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 daughter missin
Tonight and yo until you up stay away from
Them dice and whores
Three smuts, two straights and a dyke
Cause boys want three bundles two
Streaks and 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
Click, dial tone

You talkin all reckless on the phone

Get-Indicted-Hotline or somethin
Motherfucker?

I know I was talkin reckless
Earlier about them two chickens
You get it, you know
Two chickens? But listen


I'm pushin hardly half a wing back nigga
Holla

Click, dial tone