Z-Ro - Hustlin' Is All I Can Do (feat. Mr. 3-2 & Point Blank) Lyrics
[Mr. 3-2:]May life be a trip? I never knew things could ever get badAs I got no love my 17 shot glock with extra clipsThat's it, I'm goin' all out & if I die then remember me'Cause in these last days I'm feelin' like I'm a hit the penitentiaryFor real, tryin' to deal with this every day struggleYou got to get up, up off your rump baby & hustleI tussle, work my muscle & boss hogTake what's mine & still screamin' "***** y'all!"If I can't ball, they better lock me upShackled down, hand cuffed, on sight I'm a bust.What's up? Where your nuts? I get rushed to the headThug for life, mutha*****er 'til I'm deadMr. 3-2, boss of all bossesAnd I ain't toleratin' no lossesAnd no excuses 'cause this world is so shifeStreet game forever & it's like that for life, nigga.[Chorus: Z-Ro]Will I ever see the stage again?Radio DJ's gon' respect my rhythm.Feelin' like I'm finna hit the pen again.What will I do for food?Livin' in the ghetto turnin' boys to menCrooked cops & killers interrupt my mission.Tell me will I ever pimp my Penn again?Hustlin' Is All I Can Do.[Point Blank:]I was born on a *****ed up day, had to be holidaysWith nothin' but frowns on my faceThe sadness brought madness to a family that was builtUnconsciously I love 'emBut some consciencely, runnin' these streets, livin' constantlyIt's costin' me, way too much, but the slums got meJackin' niggas work something, exclude before I hurt somethingInhale, exhale, okay, I promise things gon' get better, just give me one more daySo I can work my jealous friends to have aroundSo I can tote my shit & hurt my belly for tryin' to stay downStay focused on what I'm tryin' to accomplish & not be accompliceStay real, stay true, pay dues & don't become a victim of some mob shitI never let this misery, push me to do something I regretBut just notice you in danger, I want you to feel my angerAnd if I ever feel like I'm danger, I'm a empty the chamber, oh oh.[Chorus: Z-Ro]Will I ever see the stage again?Radio DJ's gon' respect my rhythm.Feelin' like I'm finna hit the pen again.What will I do for food?Livin' in the ghetto turnin' boys to menCrooked cops & killers interrupt my mission.Tell me will I ever pimp my Penn again?Hustlin' Is All I Can Do.[Z-Ro:]These mutha*****ers want me dead, at least that's how it seems to beAn army of mutha*****ers against me Dean & E.Who you gon' call when my commrotury come down like rain?Nothin' but revenge to keep me sane, it ain't nothin' like pain 'Cause when I squeeze it then you bleed, satisfaction is guaranteedBlack hearted ever since the first murder, off precious is my breedEnemies, ***** all my foes, ***** all my friendsUnless I'm in the Penn, I've got nobody to call my kin'Cause all the real niggas are dead or in jailBut I've been left in struggle for success tryin' to get a check from Southwest WholesaleLook at all the 16's that I've wrecked & I'm practically poorOn top of that I'm homeless my niggas don't want me no more***** bein' 10 to get in, these mutha*****ers act like they don't know my faceBetter remember I'm quick to click & hit don't act like you don't know my paceWell ***** rappin' I need some right now money, it's gettin' crucialIf I pimp my pen, I got to wait 3 months for trade me scratch for lunch money.[Z-Ro:]Monday night the sirens seemed so loudI hope that I can lose this crowdLately it go down that wayThat's why a nigga quick to get the K & sprayWe could've been so throwed togetherBut because I was short it's on my cheddarI had to get up & bleed the block & it don't stop.[Chorus: Z-Ro]Will I ever see the stage again?Radio DJ's gon' respect my rhythm.Feelin' like I'm finna hit the pen again.What will I do for food?Livin' in the ghetto turnin' boys to menCrooked cops & killers interrupt my mission.Tell me will I ever pimp my Penn again?Hustlin' Is All I Can Do.
