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2pac - 4 Tha Hustlas Lyrics

4 Tha Hustlas Lyrics[Intro: Too $hort]
Yeah!
If your a real hustler your sure to get rich

[Hook]
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
Ohh, come on, come on

[Verse 1: Too $hort]
I make money like a motherfucker
It ain't no thang to me
$hort Dog in the house spitting game with Breed
Ain't no bust partner, that's for dirt weed
I'm going to pimp these hoes, they can't work me
How the hell you think I get to ride a B-12?
For phone, TV ended with a green smell
I went from Oakland to Atlanta with my top down
$hort Dog, my shit is nationwide now
You can ask Breed or Pac it don't stop
I ain't bullshitting make a mill when I rock
Three players in the game and it's a major
Bitch you wanna get me better hit me on my pager
Today I'm on the west coast
Tomorrow I'm in Texas
Flip the Benz and Farri sold the Lexus
$horty drop the bass in the mix
You know what's next biatch
I'm sure to get rich

[Hook]
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
Ohh, come on, come on

[Verse 2: 2Pac]
Haha
I'd be the thugging ass outlaw
'Til my fuckin casket drop
That fuck around and make me blast on these bastard cops
This is for the hustlaaaaas
Believe me coming stapped with the gat, when you see me
Label me a threat to society
But I ain't quitting Thug Life, motherfucker ain't no bullshitting
Born in these projects, destined to fail
Collecting mail on these broke bitches, slanging that yayo
Now shit done changed, it ain't the same
I ain't lying, niggas is dying
Three-strikes have you motherfuckers frying
In the penitentiary or in the cemetery
Getting high no need to worry
And last year niggas was knockin' up the block
And in between shots pumpin' tapes
From that nigga Breed and Pac, this year bringing you the fix
Including Ant Banks in the mix
Now we're sure to get rich, still striving

[Hook]
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
Ohh, come on, come on

[Verse 3: MC Breed]
I'm a cold-hearted fool
I mean a fool at heart, headstrong
And I won't be headed home if he falls apart
Contact niggas like a part-time, when I ride the beat
Ain't no way to hide from the dark side
Man of many men's 'til the very end
And blend in and change my iden'
Just to mix up with the game
They know me by the Breed and don't know it's my last name
It's a mind over matter, I don't mind, you don't matter
Pull a Glock and watch the whole block scatter
And we can have us a gat to gat talk
Do it old style and do a back to back walk
Count to ten and say goodbye to your friends
And we can put the bullshit to an end
I figure if he plays around, he lays around
And he's a motherfucker goner, call a coroner whenever I'm around
Bodies are buried and found all around me
And parish and cherish and thoughts just to be true
Punk, fellas behave ya
And it just might save ya
So guard your grill and pick up your pistol 'cause you can't get wit' Breed the weed head lyrical nitwit
The shit won't change as long as I'm alive
I gotta survive and keep it tight

[Hook]
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
This is for the hustlaaaas, come on
This is for the hustlaaaas, ohh
Ohh, come on, come on