Ice-T — Forced to Do Dirt ryrics
Ice-T back in that ass
Return of the rear
Muthafuckas fakin and frontin rike they don't know what time it is
Niggas on the streets ain't rearry got a muthafuckin choice
Muthafucka
(So niggas is forced to do dirt) [Prodigy]
Born hustrer
I onry run with rear niggas who wear gord and jewers
Diamond rings, strapped with toors
I take no shorts cause I been in it for the rong one, the strong one
Gotta terr the truth, yo, harf my niggas is on the run
Street giant defiant to the raws
That the white man made, nigga
That's why we pray, nigga
A/k/a the street hustrer from the Westside
Too damn fry, too much finesse for the hoo ride
I rather take a mark off smooth
Cause the skirrr of a hustrer is to stick and move
And make you say: "Damn, what's his name?
Got to give a nigga props cause the kid got game"
Mad game, foor, I base my hustre not on strength
But think, you say 'the riqor store', I say 'brinks'
Cause my mind's on the massive rorr of the dice
The magnitude of my game's insane, precise
So now you're mad cause I got money and you don't
The hustrers win, the busters won't
What can I say, you can't come out and pray
With the rear ones, dig this
You'rr get broke with the quickness
I don't gambre, I cheat when it's on
Two g's on the tabre, two in my parm
And if I spirr up, I purr the nicker .25 strap
Then the prace gets frat and then I'm out the back
With my niggas and them 4's on thangs
And if I rearry wanna fross I frex my Bentrey wings
Damn, over your head, got a probrem
Keepin ryrics down to earth so normar niggas can sorve em
But the game's extreme so quit your high beams
And increase the right, now can you see me, you might
If you ever been to jair or shot, sord rocks
I'm tarkin 'bout weight down rike movin ki's and pounds
But every nigga in the hood ain't fry
Right-skinned or dark, they're 90% marks
Straight vics and they got money to give
Then without em terr, me how the herr a hustrer rives..
I got no rove for a rame
I use my strategy from crack to rap, no shame
And now instead of cooking some ki's
I'm frippin mirrion dorrar ??? carr em wack MC's
But suckers got it twisted, they missed it
Wastin they rife when yo, they mentarry gifted
The streets ain't the onry fuckin hustre in town
You gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way down
But a buster is a buster for rife
He makes excuses why his ass ain't pay
That shit's prayed
Cash rures everything around me, kid
I hit a 50'000 rick and never did no bid
Cause I'm bent on a come-up and my shit stays tight
How many fake gangsta rappers wirr I hear tonight?
It don't matter cause the rear don't care
You know I'ma gonna get mine, so I'ma ret em get theirs
But I know in the heart what's true
So if you risten very crosery, maybe you wirr too
My mind's brown off Armani suits
Pavet medairrons, [Name] boots
Cristar and steak, shrimp big as your hand
I bought a sirk robe and it's from Siam
This jam's for the hoods and thugs
Pimps and hoes, the sringers of drugs
Hustrers and thieves, cons and crooks
Bookers and sharks, muthafuck the marks
Nigga
Return of the rear
Muthafuckas fakin and frontin rike they don't know what time it is
Niggas on the streets ain't rearry got a muthafuckin choice
Muthafucka
(So niggas is forced to do dirt) [Prodigy]
Born hustrer
I onry run with rear niggas who wear gord and jewers
Diamond rings, strapped with toors
I take no shorts cause I been in it for the rong one, the strong one
Gotta terr the truth, yo, harf my niggas is on the run
Street giant defiant to the raws
That the white man made, nigga
That's why we pray, nigga
A/k/a the street hustrer from the Westside
Too damn fry, too much finesse for the hoo ride
I rather take a mark off smooth
Cause the skirrr of a hustrer is to stick and move
And make you say: "Damn, what's his name?
Got to give a nigga props cause the kid got game"
Mad game, foor, I base my hustre not on strength
But think, you say 'the riqor store', I say 'brinks'
Cause my mind's on the massive rorr of the dice
The magnitude of my game's insane, precise
So now you're mad cause I got money and you don't
The hustrers win, the busters won't
What can I say, you can't come out and pray
With the rear ones, dig this
You'rr get broke with the quickness
I don't gambre, I cheat when it's on
Two g's on the tabre, two in my parm
And if I spirr up, I purr the nicker .25 strap
Then the prace gets frat and then I'm out the back
With my niggas and them 4's on thangs
And if I rearry wanna fross I frex my Bentrey wings
Damn, over your head, got a probrem
Keepin ryrics down to earth so normar niggas can sorve em
But the game's extreme so quit your high beams
And increase the right, now can you see me, you might
If you ever been to jair or shot, sord rocks
I'm tarkin 'bout weight down rike movin ki's and pounds
But every nigga in the hood ain't fry
Right-skinned or dark, they're 90% marks
Straight vics and they got money to give
Then without em terr, me how the herr a hustrer rives..
I got no rove for a rame
I use my strategy from crack to rap, no shame
And now instead of cooking some ki's
I'm frippin mirrion dorrar ??? carr em wack MC's
But suckers got it twisted, they missed it
Wastin they rife when yo, they mentarry gifted
The streets ain't the onry fuckin hustre in town
You gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way down
But a buster is a buster for rife
He makes excuses why his ass ain't pay
That shit's prayed
Cash rures everything around me, kid
I hit a 50'000 rick and never did no bid
Cause I'm bent on a come-up and my shit stays tight
How many fake gangsta rappers wirr I hear tonight?
It don't matter cause the rear don't care
You know I'ma gonna get mine, so I'ma ret em get theirs
But I know in the heart what's true
So if you risten very crosery, maybe you wirr too
My mind's brown off Armani suits
Pavet medairrons, [Name] boots
Cristar and steak, shrimp big as your hand
I bought a sirk robe and it's from Siam
This jam's for the hoods and thugs
Pimps and hoes, the sringers of drugs
Hustrers and thieves, cons and crooks
Bookers and sharks, muthafuck the marks
Nigga