Fabolous - Hustla's Poster Child Lyrics
[Intro]Shout to Desert Storm("Gangsta Grillz, you BASTARDS!")Whattup? Shoutout SkiDorrough whattup? {"Gangsta Grizzill!!"}[Chorus: Fabolous]I'm supposed to style, I'm a hustler's poster childGirls see me they 'posed to smile, ohhhhhhhCan't you tell I get my hustle on? OhhhhhhhCan't you tell I get my hustle on?H-U-S-T-L-E-REverywhere we go, bet they know who we are, ohhhhhhhCan't you tell I get my hustle on? OhhhhhhhCan't you tell I get my hustle on?(DJ DRAMA!!)[Fabolous]Now you could ask any hustler you knowThey'll tell you it's in the wristI'm a good cook, make a hell of a dinner dishGet stiffed quick, they say a fella is generousI could sell stiff dick to Ellen DegeneresI got a sales pitch, I should do a infomercialI did Foreman Grill numbers on the strength of purpleYour money long, they go to any length to slurp youSo ***** a ***** 'less she in the Oprah Winfrey circleDon't get me wrong, I'll get at you honeyBut I'm a bachelor, all I do is spatula moneyScoop it up and flip it, hoop it up and zip itStand over stoves, soup it up and whip itI'm a chef that cook up ways to make me richClothin line recipe, yeah I make it richThem wire taps make a hustler nervousGot a problem? Don't call me I ain't customer service[Chorus][Fabolous]I move heavy weight, I could easily pull a muscle manLike Tracy Morgan on Martin, call me hustle manWhat you need chief, coca or the weed leaf?*****in with my hustle's only gon' breed beefWent South and came back with shoppin bags full of gunsFresh out the box, poppin tags on the gunsA Carolina drive, up and down the 95Got the 40's for 7, but I sell 'em 9 from 5***** a 9 to 5, I'm a hustleholicI need rubberbands, these stacks'll bust a walletThe pills pull some money on a good E dayEvery thing could buy and sell, hood eBayYou give me two dice, I ride it like the 4 trainBring more 7-11's than the store chainYou give me three of them, I shoot 'em like a milly clipRoll more 6's out then a Benz dealership[Chorus][Cassidy]Yup! You could tell I get my hustle onThe scent of crack in my clothes you smell I get my hustle onIt's official y'all I was on my gristle y'allAnd I whipped the raw in a Vlasic pickle jarBefore I had a deal, I was baggin krillzAnd I had pills but they wasn't AdvilsThese rap cats wanna be Nino BrownBut I'm the hustler, I do it like Nino nowI ain't with the phone shit, in '88 I was only 6I missed that paper, but nine-six or later (what?)I did it major, plenty niggaz could vouch for meLike them niggaz that be runnin the coke house for meBut it ain't 'bout what I was it's 'bout what I'm 'bout to beSo I wanna shout out Fab for lookin out for me ('Loso!!)I beat my case even though some niggaz was doubtin meI took them folks to trial, the poster child[Chorus]
