Ice T - Forced To Do Dirt Lyrics
Ice-t back in that assReturn of the realMutha*****as fakin and frontin like they dont know what time it isNiggas on the streets aint really got a mutha*****in choiceMutha*****a(so niggas is forced to do dirt) --> prodigyBorn hustlerI only run with real niggas who wear gold and jewelsDiamond rings, strapped with toolsI take no shorts cause I been in it for the long one, the strong oneGotta tell the truth, yo, half my niggas is on the runStreet giant defiant to the lawsThat the white man made, niggaThats why we play, niggaA/k/a the street hustler from the westsideToo damn fly, too much finesse for the hoo rideI rather take a mark off smoothCause the skilll of a hustler is to stick and moveAnd make you say: damn, whats his name?Got to give a nigga props cause the kid got gameMad game, fool, I base my hustle not on strengthBut think, you say the liqor store, I say brinksCause my minds on the massive roll of the diceThe magnitude of my games insane, preciseSo now youre mad cause I got money and you dontThe hustlers win, the busters wontWhat can I say, you cant come out and playWith the real ones, dig thisYoull get broke with the quicknessI dont gamble, I cheat when its onTwo gs on the table, two in my palmAnd if I spill up, I pull the nickel .25 strapThen the place gets flat and then Im out the backWith my niggas and them 4s on thangsAnd if I really wanna floss I flex my bentley wingsDamn, over your head, got a problemKeepin lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve emBut the games extreme so quit your high beamsAnd increase the light, now can you see me, you mightIf you ever been to jail or shot, sold rocksIm talkin bout weight down like movin kis and poundsBut every nigga in the hood aint flyLight-skinned or dark, theyre 90% marksStraight vics and they got money to giveThen without em tell, me how the hell a hustler lives..I got no love for a lameI use my strategy from crack to rap, no shameAnd now instead of cooking some kisIm flippin million dollar ? ? ? call em wack mcsBut suckers got it twisted, they missed itWastin they life when yo, they mentally giftedThe streets aint the only *****in hustle in townYou gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way downBut a buster is a buster for lifeHe makes excuses why his ass aint payThat shits playedCash rules everything around me, kidI hit a 50000 lick and never did no bidCause Im bent on a come-up and my shit stays tightHow many fake gangsta rappers will I hear tonight?It dont matter cause the real dont careYou know ima gonna get mine, so ima let em get theirsBut I know in the heart whats trueSo if you listen very closely, maybe you will tooMy minds blown off armani suitsPavet medaillons, [name] bootsCristal and steak, shrimp big as your handI bought a silk robe and its from siamThis jams for the hoods and thugsPimps and hoes, the slingers of drugsHustlers and thieves, cons and crooksBookers and sharks, mutha***** the marksNigga
