Respect This Hustle song by T.I. from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Dirty South, Atlanta Rap, Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
Respect This Hustle Meaning
| [[Intro] Huh, yeah (AY! You already know what this is homie!) Aiyyo what you yellin for man? (Man shut the fuck up talkin to me man) Man calm down shorty (Nah you calm down, I ain’t got shit to say to you man) Man see that’s why I don’t even fuck wit’chu dawg (Hollywood ass nigga, I don’t fuck with YOU) You be on that bullshit man (Yeah man, well you better respect my muh’fuckin hustle) Man you ain’t the only one gotta hustle nigga (I told you once man) You can’t tell me shit! (You heard me) Aight now [Hook] R-E-S-P-E-C-T, M-Y, H-U-S-T-L-E Should respect this hustle, respect this hustle Won’t accept nuttin else so respect this hustle I ain’t in it for the fame, I ain’t in it for the glory I’m down to die for it, absolutely mandatory Respect this hustle, respect this hustle Won’t accept nuttin else so respect this hustle – AY! [Verse One] These niggas bitch-made, I’m gettin paid six ways Six laid, shit’s sprayed with lemonade with blades Keep your mouth closed, you don’t wanna get sprayed Shoot you up your body, let it sunbathe six days Kamikaze renegade, nah he never been afraid Kept the trap hot enough to fry an egg in the shade I ball ’til the day I’m lyin dead in the grave I leave the Feds behind the wall cause I ain’t get away Chopper round the corner and a bushel with a brick of yay A bust can happen any day, we out here trappin anyway Gettin money’s an addiction, damn what a nigga say? I got a real bad condition if I ain’t gettin paid Hand over fist, well I miss it, gotta get busy I know you see this car I drive and see the house that I live in And figure this is enough (what nigga?) I want way mo’ Nigga this is Play-Doe, you set your sights way low Had enough of the game, I don’t know whether to stay or go And different group of lames and suckas e’rywhere which way I go (But nigga know you King, why you always gotta say it fo’?) Cause they said I couldn’t say it befo’ And I remember all it did was fuck my temper up mo’, Doug and J know I said I wear a crown, not a halo – sorry Niggas think they seein me but they so sorry They fast but they ain’t no Ferrari {*YOOM!*} , [Hook] [Verse Two] Ay, don’t you think you been pullin gats fussin cussin enough? Round here braggin ’bout these niggas you be bustin enough Man look around, ain’t nobody sufferin but her You could beat a hundred cases, catch one and you fucked (Man I get probation) Is you crazy? Pull a gun in the club See how many folks and polices put you down in the club If we gotta come with a slug, why we come to the club? How much more of this shit you think we can sweep under the rug? (Look, we already told them “I Told You So”) But all these niggas speakin out who wouldn’t spoke befo’ Don’t take it personal, people wanna be close to folk What you think the televisions and the posters fo’? (Yeahhh man I’m claustrophobic though) Well you need to see a doctor for it And I ain’t jokin, you close Tip and you ’bout to blow it Did you forgot about them nights in the cells, was you honest (I dunno) When we was havin talks with God and you promised If he made a way for you to be large, and you done it Out the gate, “Urban Legend” went on to do numbers Sold a mil’, made “ATL”, “King” first week five hundred Won the Grammy’s (but not the one that I wanted) What about them eight figure deals and that other new money? But ask yourself somethin, where the gun you got from me? Keep it real , Talk about somethin other than yourself sometime (man) Did you keep your promise partner? (Ay, just keep it real) [Hook] [Numerous ad libs to the end]] |
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