Lyrics
[T.I.]
Yea
You already know what it is pimp (ay ay ay)
T.I.P king of the motherfuckin' South (B Gezzy let's do it homie)
Grand Hustle pimp (Choppa City in here)
Got my nigga Block in this bitch Eastside represent (yeah)
Westside Bankhead nigga Zone 1 A-town nigga (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)
You know what it is Zone 3 Mechanicville Summer Hill nigga
Pittsburgh (KLC let's ride) all my real niggaz ride ya'll know what's happenin'
P.$.C. nigga

[Verse 1: T.I.]
Hey I could give you what you want, T.I.P.'s the hottest
Gain what ya need, I could tell you all about it
You could up in the streets, but it ain't no gettin' out it
When I tell you I'ma G, pimp I'm really bein' modest
I could tell bout the dope boys, hoes, and the ballers (ho)
The pimps and the macks, real niggas that what they call us
Hangin' in the trap cause dat's what our daddies' taught us
Put 30's on a Lac to a Benz on brawlers
Standin' on the corner, slagin' crack and stackin' dollars
Till it's time to cop a brick and I'm tired of movin' quarters
My dad wasn't a doctor and my momma wasn't a lawyer
I ain't never had shit, congratulation is in order (still trappin')
Tryin' ta get a meal for my sons and my daughter
If I call a bad bitch wit connects down in Florida
Say her daddy and her uncle still getting cross the wall
??? I'd be a motherfuckin' fool if I don't call her

[Chorus]
Ah what it is my nigga, what it do? (hey what it do)
I gotta grip a twin, I'm finna buss a move (ah buss a move)
Ah what it is my nigga, what it do? (hey what it do)
I got the tool and I'm finna cut a fool (ah cut a fool)
Hey what it do, what it do, what it do, hey what it do
What it do my nigga what it do, hey what it do
Hey what it do, what it do, what it do, hey what it do
What it do my nigga what it do, hey what it do

[Verse 2: B.G.]
I'ma H-you-S-T-L-E-Rah
If I don't know you then fuck ya
If I know you then I front ya (proper)
But you gotta break me off
You don't, I catch ya slippin' on the block and knock you off
I know people, I get nice deals
Get 'em $5 sell 'em $10 a pill
I know people, big ki's for 13
If I fuck witcha, ya get 'em for 16
I know people, get 'em 300 a pound
Give 'em to ya for 500 if you my round
I'ma hustler, holla at me Uptown
I'm well connected with weed, white, slangin' that brown
Come see a nigga want a nice 60
You real we swap work you fake its 20 g's
It's like that, I done been through the struggle
I'm runnin' Choppa City an fuckin' with Grand Hustle

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: T.I.]
I got the eye of a tiger and the heart of a bear
I'm the king of the jungle, you can follow me there
Or you can hear it from these niggas who was hardly there
Or take it from niggas who fought to make it a star to get here
Several years ago I told myself I solemnly swear
Forever be hard to kill, even harder to scare
One reason why me and other cats is hard to compare
Cause I'm fact, that's fiction, it hardly compares
Bein' hated part of the game, pimp it's hard but it's fair
Well I'ma be the best, hate me, see if I care
But just know I'm raisin' the bar and I'm keepin' there
And I'ma still ride clean, blowin' weed in the air
With 2 or 3 bad bitches got they feet in the air
Say they like when I smack on they ass and skeet in they hair
Listen, I don't care if you got the song of the year
Ya whole show shutin' down when the don appear

[Chorus]

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): CHRISTOPHER DORSEY, CLIFFORD HARRIS, CRAIG LAWSON




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