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letra de la confidential - blanco & nipsey hussle

[intro: nipsey hussle]
and now for my next number, i’d like to return to the cl-ssics
(cookin’ soul)
uh, uh, yuh
west coast (west coast)
hussle, hussle
ya know
neighborhood
west coast, who ride?
blanco
labeled as a thug
ayy, yo, b
west coast (west coast)
uh, look
labeled as a thug
west coast, who ride?

[verse 1: blanco]
ain’t the type of white dude sippin’ bud light
i’m the type with my nine screamin’, “thug life”
a bad b-tch wanna f-ck tonight
you ain’t sh-t, motherf-cker, so it’s f-ck your life
f-ck the d.e.a., i.r.s., and f.b.i
there, i said it, won’t regret it ’til we start trial
i don’t ever leave a paper trail
and best believe i’ma g, i will break the scale
i’m a hustler, give a f-ck about a budget
i’m a gangsta, give a f-ck about the judges
i’m a monster, middle finger to you suckas
i’m a mobster, mr. untouchable
can’t f-ck with me, i’m so on some other sh-t
on a road trip, gotta bring my other b-tch
not my other b-tch, my other, other, other b-tch
every brick i flip, the more i’m like, “f-ck, i’m rich”

[chorus: 2pac]
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
f-ckin’ mob figga, west coast
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
lettin’ n-gg-s have it, i’ve been labeled as a thug
f-ckin’ mob figga, west coast

[verse 2: yg]
n-gg-s hate daily, glock is my protection
i’m the n-gg- that your mama told you not to mess with
caught a interception on your b-tch now that’s a wridnap
give her some d-ck quick, now watch how fast she collapse
pusha ink the label, yeah, been that way from day one
the hoes get around me and me? i just got to say somethin’
i let my chain speak, i ain’t really gotta say much
if see me in the streets, holla, “suwoop, n-gg-, stay up”
i’m all about my dollars, pop my collar on a hoe b-tch
she say, “all you wanna do is f-ck me,” i say, “you know it”
my b-tch rollin’, my b-tch bad
don’t trip ’cause the homies got the strap
run up in your pad like the motherf-ckin’ police
with pistols in your face like, “n-gg-, don’t you owe me?”
i’m tryna steal the rap game like the house lit
i’m from the west but i’m tryna f-ck a south b-tch

[verse 3: nipsey hussle]
look, look
i’m fresh off the block, i ain’t really left yet
best on the west, hands-down, no question
and my adidas got the slauson boy etched in
and black sam keep the money invested
all i do is check rappers off the checklist
no beef, i eat beef for breakfast
no sleep ’cause these streets is hectic
i don’t make peace, i just put ’em on my necklace
real n-gg-, never ran, never snitched
the old lady of fifth ain’t raise no b-tch
and we some real n-gg-s, nothin’ like the n-gg-s in your clique
always runnin’ ’round talkin’ about the little sh-t that you did
we’ll never say nothin’ ’bout that big sh-t we did
we just see eachother and nod, and you know what it is
and we don’t talk about the big sh-t we did
we just see eachother and nod and you know what it is, n-gg-

- blanco nipsey hussle

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