1-900- Huster

1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy What's the problem shorty? Yeah what up man I'm the only nigga from Brooklyn out here man I'm tryin' to lock the spot down, holla at me Alright, hold on, Hova, line one Here's a couple of suggestions of how you could finesse it You find a dude in town, you send him a short message Say, "Hey, I'm new in town, I don't know my way around But I got some soft white that's sure to come back brown I get that butter all night Cause most niggas don't know a brick from a bike They keep buyin' hard white And if you free tomorrow night we can meet and discuss price FYI, I never been robbed in my life" Or, you find a chick, shit, you hole up in her crib and Let her introduce you 'round town like her man Shake hands, make friends like it's all innocent Then, before they look up you sellin' the town cook-up Or, gorilla pimp, come up on that killer shit Take a nigga brick, smack him, then you sell it back to them Still there Brooklyn? Yeah yeah that's gangsta, I think I'm a roll with that one Make out a check for eight hundred dollars Jigga Man, holla 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy Whats up Sig? This Chris out the Young Guns dog What up? I'm ready to smash these niggas in the rap game The niggas takin' too long with that advance money and shit Yeah Talkin' 'bout chill, chill don't pay the bills Yeah I feel that I know you well connected dog Let me holla at somebody real Aight look, I got the perfect person for you, hold on Bleek, line two Listen shorty, you wanna roll just give me the word I ain't got time for a sentence all that shit is absurd You find a strip first, if you don't cook find a bitch first If you don't hustle find a nigga who pitch first You new in town, no red and blue in town, there's gangs Don't get fresh, let 'em know you small change The strong move quiet, the weak start riots We know you got a brick but sell 'em twenties til they tired With no credit, you know you sick with that gotta eat fetish And other niggas who gettin' it, dead it Make 'em an offer that they can't refuse He resists, box him in, til he can't be moved Here's the rules: chop it, bag it, stash it, stack it Get in, get out, that's a O.G.'s classic 900-Hustler, you pass it around Wanna speak to me direct, hit extension trey-pound, I'm out 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your dog What seem to be the problem young boy? Yo what up, this Murder Def Kill Homicide Nigga I got two freaks Yo watch your fuckin' mouth man Fuck you mean watch my mouth nigga? Been on hold for about two hours nigga I don't give a fuck how long you been on the line; Shut the fuck up! Matter of fact, hold on I know this nigga ain't just put, put me on hold man This bullshit-ass elevator music Free, pick up line five First things first, watch what you say out your mouth When you talkin' on the phone to hus-tlers Never play the house, think drought, keep heat in the couch When you sittin' in the presence of cus-tomers Never hold out, pull out, throw heat and be out If a nigga ever think that he touchin-ya Lay low, get cake, whip all over the state Stash dough, whip yay with, right amount of bake (hoe!) Nigga too close went right around his place (yo!) You stoppin' dough when we clutchin' the gats? I know you heard "Friend or Foe," this ain't different from that Make sure you got your four-four and he can slip if he like Young, Jon Benet daughter missin' tonight and yo Until you up stay away from them dykes and whores Three smuts, two straights and a dyke Can pause one-three rumbles two streaks and a pipe for sure And if it's tight, then he might come back for more Nine and four, everyday back and forth Winter to summer, 1-900-Hustler Pass the number til you're stackin balls Tell you how to weigh shit wet and package more I take cash or write the check out to F-R Two E's, that'll be two G's And forget my money I'm comin' for all your ki's, nigga 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy dog Yo what up young, you put me on hold earlier man what happened Yeah you stupid motherfucker {Watch your mouth man} You talkin all reckless on the phone Fuck you think this the, Get-Indicted-Hotline or something motherfucker? Yo, my bad man, my bad I know I was talking reckless earlier about them two chickens You get it, you know, two chickens? But listen What? Just tell me how to move this shit man I'm pushin hardly half a wing back nigga, holla Get a job, holla at Perdue!