Hillingman

MC Hustler Lyrics

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Hillingman - MC Hustler lyrics

Just an MC hustlin, hustlin (2x)
I'm just an MC hustlin, hustlin
Just an MC hustlin, hustlin

I'm a general, in this hip hop army, yeah
Highly ranked, thick like a tank
Well-equipped for niggas poppin shit
Rapifier, now plug the wire let's get down to it
I'm frustrated, uh, filled with anger
Feel like jumpin in the wash and just chill on the hanger
But uh, mama didn't raise no quitters
So uh, what you want and what you need I deliver

Chorus

Mass confusion, boozin, drug using
Got some winning some losing, is it real or an illusion?
I guess it's all a test, stress to paranoia
Slim, go get a lawyer, make him prove nobody saw ya
The clock struck the midnight hour, I hit the ?
I see my man Infinite pimpin shit for the team
The millionaires club, Republicans make it difficult
Kill or be killed's the result, I'm rollin up
The ?, drinkin ?, talkin sports
Herb smoke stimulates my thoughts
It took me deeper than the reaper's domain
To make it plain as hell
I left my spirit to dwell
But let my lyrics rebelHillingman - MC Hustler - http://motolyrics.com/hillingman/mc-hustler-lyrics.html
Documented on record to spark my ? brain cell
I kick a style like Bruce, rockin this rotten metropolis
Drugs, thugs and slugs, the scene it's so monotonous
One day it dawned on me as the time rolls by
That the same thing that makes you laugh makes you cry
Sometimes I feel I'm winnin, sinnin,
Sittin back in the MP, relax, talkin bout a new beginning
You see, I'm just an MC, I'm just an MC...

Chorus

I gotta get over, before I go under
I gotta get over, before I go under-privileged
Trapped deep beneath the sewage
I attend the University of Making Money
Five makes ten, ten makes twenty
Good n' plenty, keeps pockets from getting empty
Blunts get pulled, different day same bull
Shit, you can't own it, two (?) you manufacture it
Take away profit now tell me what you get
I got a size eight, a fried chicken dinner plate
I'm sellin dreams, you know, rhymes by the weight
Ten years of hustling, brung home the bacon, man
More scramblin than Moon and Cunningham
You know, money for the makin, maintainin
Hustlin, for the president, causin campaignin (?)
I'm just an MC, what I be?

Chorus

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