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(feat. Lil' Wayne) "Nigga, ask about me" [x4] "I'm a hustler, I'm a, I'm a hustler homie" [x2] "Nigga, ask a, nigga, nigga, ask about me" [x2] "I'm a hustler, I'm a, I'm a hustler homie" [x2] [Chamillionaire:] Nah man I'm not Blood deep or Crip deep or 6 deep or clip deep How deep? This deep, nine millie clip deep With this heat, a body builder turn into a pipsqueak They turn to vegetarians, they don't wanna end up mince meat You'll see, where the mortuary was at, I know you miss me Snatch the gat, brrr-at! And lyrically wreck that ass officially I see you live in fairytales, niggas better switch beefs I had a tooth fairy choke his ass up outa his sleep Problem with Chamillionaire? Do they mention any names? Hell no! You scared crow? Try your best to be brave Got a Smith & Wesson bro, we know that you gon' behave Safety, your locksmith, like you could get a key made You all up on the thang like little girls turning teenage You really a bunch of hoes like 6th street at Texas relays Ohio to Chicago, I got niggas in them PJ's Bully, skinny, but the arms strong like you was BJ's I hear these rapping niggas but believe I'm not a fan of it I'm here to rid the rap game of all it's contaminants SongtexteI'm better than the average, I want her, I can have the chick Doing the same pose as Paris Hilton in them camera flicks (haha) The mathematics get big cause I'm demanding it Raping the rap game while these other suckers is romancing it They worried about it's feelings, they don't wanna take a chance with it Kissing up to the game with rose petals and a candle lit haha "I'm a hustler, I'm a, I'm a hustler" [Slowed down] [Lil Wayne:] Aaaaaay I'm a southern boy, therefore I stunt Y'all city slickers, we call it country dump And I'm chilling like a villain off a killing Looking at the ceilings like I'm a get in for realer I'm a get it regardless, hard as it is Who wants to be a millionaire? Know how I'm a get a million And I'm in the pavilion Chilling with my girl but I don't speak Sicilian But we both count the same as Long as when I say I'm with it, it come out the same as If I wanna win with it but I'm out the game Y'all boys trynna get me killed... huh You know the Feds are my biggest fans I got to watch what the little one's saying, man They see my momma and they wanna pull her over Cause she ain't got no number on the back of the Rover And yep - I'm locing There's cooler ways to die but I'm smoking There's cooler ways to ride but I'm soaring Might do the young G5 or G4 Ay, you never know, when your boy might touring Just trynna get me some air on Mike Jordan Of this whole thing right here, I'm staring Y'all boys just appear, I'm here, the Tardis So applaud him, yeeeeah Chinky eyes, keep faring Look like Keith Moorer, street aura, uh Still I hustled in the street like he poorer Run up on him you sleep and eat aura Decent Christians, he owes momma, those Gucci seatbelts will look better with the barker Sit up in my office, you need to rebound You got a box out, get up put a baller on I'm right back with ya, never leave ya lonely Forget about Frank momma, I can be your Tony Weezy F. Baby man... Aus Songtexte Mania