Pimp C - I'm a Hustler lyrics

I stay paid and I like blades
Old school cars and loving Maze
I've got hoes (I've got hoes) , I do shows
Getting money a-, riding Rolls (riding Rolls)
Keep my grind I don't, waste my time
Coming up, getting down for mines

I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it

Deep up in the game, ain't no stopping
I get my money like Johnny Guitar Watson
Pimping them hoes and put the
Bitch on the track
And tell the ho to bring all my money back
I want to holler at that boy Ike Turner
You gotta know it's 'bout the
Paper and you learn her
About getting on the corner for your daddy
What love got to do with it, I'm in the Caddy
I got a yellow-ass ho that'll suck you up
That'll blow in your butt
Ain't scared to fuck
And she'll bend over, take it like a G
Because you know the bitch down with Pimp C
I switched my name to Jack Tripper
Now the hoes trying to pull
Down my fucking zipper
And get to that snake with the cobra head
I got some homeboys doing life in the fed

I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it

See me on the slab, whipping in the Nav'
You already know I'm cooking in the lab

When I was young, all I wanted was a 'lac
I used to think them niggas was fiends
That was blowing on the weed sack
Cause all I did was cut up cheese
And sell dope and come through
With the thang with ease
I used to have a 25 pistol
But now I got some shit
That shoot like a missile
I tuck a AK, HK too bitch i'll hit you up
I ain't going for that ho shit
Them other niggas playing games
In the streets
You think it's 'bout being lame
And making lame beats
We ain't 'bout you and them beats niggas
Cause fuck boys
Could easily get hit with the trigger
You think you rich? But, you a bitch
You see me in the club check my pitch
I'm down with J prince bitch
And you know that
When we come through splitting
Bitch niggas hats

I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it

Told you before I'm a country star
In a country car
Got a country ass bitch, sip country barre
Got a country son, got a country chain
Coming down in the car
And gripping country grain

Sweet Jones bitch, Pimp
(peeeimp) knahmtalkinbout?
Go out and get that shit
I'm talking 'bout doing a
Million records independently sold
On your bitch ass so when you see me in the
City recognize I'm already paid
When you see me chopping on blades
Don't rob us bitch
Not them phony-ass blades with
No knockers on 'em
Representing that south, PA to be exact
And ain't no gang in PA bitch-ass nigga
Ain't no blood and no Crip
Fuck-ass nigga I'm Texas i told ya, bitch