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letra de the hustle - mr. fritz

(mr. fritz verse 1)

they say the best lessons? stay on ya green like french dressing/
don’t move weight if you hurt ya arms bench pressing/
police be pleading for reasons to gets to squeezing at us/
and wonder why we don’t speak to em when they need to capture/
they suspects, got much stress, i’m leaning/
on liquor and marijuana just trying to dodge my demons/
wish i could do it legally, it’s truly a thought/
might be a corpse before i’m hearing opportunity knock/
i been a savage since a youth/
done lost a lotta homies to them cannons for the loot/
now lots of eyes are on me cause i’m handing them the truth/
this hustle a cold game/
in pursuit of gold chains and things, we slang and bang/
not too religious, but if the lord forgiving me, thanks/
and karma’s a b-tch, my memory banks/
is full of nightmares and sins/
for nike airs and gin/
rep of a boss, i take it as acceptable loss/
i got lavish habits, ambitions to smash the baddest rabbits/
but pretty b-tches isn’t hearing that minimum wage/
so i’m a handle my business, get my hands on them riches/
and scramble any mother f-cker that gets in my way/
this everyday a n-gga rolling the dice on my freedom/
but for that greening, it’s a risk i’m a take/
i keep my eyes on the prize until i rise to the skies/
a rough rider, i’m a ride till i die it’s for the love of the hustle/

(chorus)

it’s for the love of the hustle
it’s for the love of the…
it’s for the love of the hustle

(chilla jones verse 2)

i was told growing up i had the wrong idols/
the way they towered on the block was beyond eiffel/
way back when stone cold was stunning shawn michaels/
with nothing but tall tees up in the wash cycle/
the law stifled the block (ugh)/
i saw fights between the dealers moving hard white for the gwap/
i used to watch the cop squad car lights from the top…floor/
and see the struggle firsthand it was hard…core/
working this 9-5 cause i need money/
knowing this paycheck ain’t equal to the street money/
so if you ever heard a n-gga getting weed from me/
it’s just to give my daughter everything she needs from me/
dedicated father…dropped out of 9th grade/
but i’m educated, though i never made it farther/
man make the money, money never made the man/
but i’m getting money everyday anyway i can/
it’s the hustle

(chorus)

(verse 3)

(mr. fritz)
it is what it is, this soundtrack of life when i cue the score/
with a hunger i can’t contain with this music, boy/
it’s either this, get a jumper, start moving raw/
or put a mask on for ya ring, like a luchador/

(chilla jones)
f-ck you think we hooping for? losing ain’t sensible/
hustle is what they pretend to do and i could sense the bull/
think you invincible? my n-ggas catch you by your bae’s side/
and make your bell ding off princ-p-l/

(mr. fritz)
i’m a paint the visual, fly individual/
used to salt fries now i grind with my n-ggas who/
been there since day one, of i’m eating share the dinner plate/
with n-ggas had em f-cking with the rock before triple h/

(chilla jones)
from the bottom to the top…sell it to the addicts/
hustler, moving drugs from the cellar to the attic/
wanna see it rain money no umbrella no jacket/
till i’m dead up in a casket…it’s for the love of the hustle

(chorus)

- mr fritz

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