I see alot of muthafuckaz talk about getting money ,
All my life i see niggaz talk rich and cry broke,
I know some of you niggaz is starving,
You know the industry fucked up right now,
Record sales in the toilet,
Executives scared to loose their job...
You can never hide the truth from Immortal Technique,
Niggaz is happy to sell a hundred thousand in the first week,
And retailers is right there watching you,
You move with extortion, co op a dollar a unit,
The record industry wants a messiah to come again,
So they can rape him for his masters and his publishing,
How the niggaz sell half a million cd’s but cant sellout s.o.b.s ,
While payola play, and i never thought i’d see the day (never)
When soundscan is stronger than a disc record,
And rappers don’t get creative, and just send a mixed message,
So fuck an MC battle, the golden era is gone,
I’ll treat you niggaz like 50, i wont even respond,
Put your mom’s in the rape room and shake the bitch like im Saddam, (?)
Rush a show and stomp you out during one of your songs, (?)
And I’m not a hypocrite because im aggressive and violent,
Id be a hypocrite if i was peaceful and silent,
And i let em’ get away with the shit that they say,
But i treat em’ like Clear Channel, making em’ pay,
For talking reckless, fuck the charm on your necklace,
Cause’ who you down with don’t mean shit when you surrounded,
And who you gone get when your four pounded,
Your not a boss, pussy, your not even a di-lo
You live in a fucking fantasy smoking hydro,
Whie me and real niggaz divide dough,
So lie low, and don’t talk to me about disrespecting,
Cause even Fat Beats rejected my record,
And now major’s wanna sign me again,
All the niggaz i used to know, tryna find me again
I guess eighty thousand sold will do that you fucking new jack
And i don't need to wear jewelry to prove that
Cause’ three apartments a house and fifty acres will do that
[Hook]
Hardcore, underground, hustlin' the streets,
If you ain't ready to hustle, nigga you don't eat,
And if you ain't ready to live for this you shouldn't speak,
Because muthafuckas die for this shit every week,
Hardcore, underground, hustlin' the streets
If you ain't ready to hustle, nigga you don't eat
And if you ain't ready to live for this you shouldn't speak
Because muthafuckas die for this shit every week
[Verse 2]
I'll never be as famous as other rappers in the game is,
Because i represent what up against the grain is,
Never trust no body minor or major,
Cause' a persons real religion is their behavior,
I can stare into your soul when i look in your eyes,
4th branch of the government still telling lies,
Fox news and then New York post is a joke,
Nucleus of the yellow journalism yolk,
And send someone after me if you don't like me,
You'll be the next nigga to take a bullet for whitey
Like the Latinos and blacks in Iraq who come strapped in a wheel chair
When they come back,
Muthafuck that im Peruvian coke,
I can tell if your shits fake,
I'm the raw version of the crack on you mixtape,
So don't hate on this advice that I sent from the grave,
Just remember it before you sign up to be slaves.
Street Hustle Lyrics performed by Immortal Technique are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Street Hustle Lyrics performed by Immortal Technique is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD