Backbone - Believe ThatLyrics

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[Chorus: x2] Never let the money and these broads break us We right here till the Lord take us We act a fool cause the laws make us Baby, you can't stop the hustle' [Backbone] You walk your ass 'cross my yard, get off my grass You want to get to that money, get off yo' ass You wants to know my name, you wants to ask If you want to see me for something, it's going cost ya cash I see ya poking outcha jeans girl you acting bad Oh, do that again with you nasty ass I caught her coming out the mall, with 2 or 3 bags Now shorty got her at the wood shack, throwing her back Champagne, chicken wings, and bubble bath Catch me somewhere outta town signing autographs Still working street corners, straight serving them blacks Them thirty-two fifth it for four and a half I prefer a Chevrolet, when it's time to mash And I smoke the 'dro weed, a hundred dollars a sack I put up the big numbers nigga, check the stats And I'm on the microphone with Gipp, Slimm, and Cass [Chorus: x2] [Big Gipp] Since the trashman only run once a week If I miss it, I'm wait 'til night and dump it up the street, behind the Winn-Dixie Quiver, never step or kept up his penny drawers To get an applause, appeared to have no flaws In the situation, no dentition, smelling good But I ain't gonna feel her, touching up would be too easy Sleazy, measly, looking ugly like a person trying to sell me a dub Fool A, see, D, and me Trees ain't my reason for sending your ass to grave and Watch you say the grade is, Burn like acid reflux, somebone'll order up the Pheffer chickens While I order up a smoked duck (Thank You) Get the gas to go, at the corner sto' Keep my hand on the nine piece In case somebody want to disturb the peace (Always keeping my eyes open) Cause you, can't, stop the hustle [Chorus: x2] [Slimm Calhoun] Well I'm known for my shine, Southside Eyes on the prize, it's Mr. Fly Guy Mobbing, '68 Chevy, door vault ties Jumped out mugging like I'm holding twenty pies Rocked up, work on the block, We keep it, chopped up in the spot, in the pot Where we keep it, stocked up from the Frosty Flakes To the chickens in the cake If I drop it on the tool, it must be weight Went with two and a quarter, came back with eight Let Juke lick the plate, I re-rock the shape Like it hot in the kitchen nigga, oven on bake Got gorillas with banana clips, who love to go apes Southpaw, side-strapped, known to leave yellow tape Try and stop the hustle and crushed like grapes Just for the taste, just for the taste [Chorus: x4] [Repeats] Uh-uh (Uh-huh) Baby, you can't stop the hustle'
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