Lyrics:

pharell: i'ma tell u what i'm talking bout,

when i was a young boy,my mama always told don't take no shit,

mutha fucka hit then u betta hit em' back

so when hit the nigga it go blaamme blaaame





malice:back when i was bout big wheels and race tracs,

pop push the tornada and rode to eight tracks,

never stood a chance, exposed from way back

lyin to the baby, saying it's ajax

i was bout 4, when i walked passed that door

that should have been closed where i first witnessed the raw

see in my household it was quite unique

playin' hide and seek u might find a key

(?) branded my mental

hal's my role model in that lincoln continental

bought all my friends icees, it was about six

and when he pull off i was like see told u we was rich

how i turned out let it be no suprise

when they speak of cousin ricke it brings tears to the eyes(see)

my familt got a history of hustlers-lil' brother,big brother,mother to

grandmother(it's tradition)





pusha t:my momma didn't see it coming my daddy was there

what's my excuse

cartoons were the root

starteed with yosimine sam, with the gun in

palm of each hand,what couldn't i demand(see)

13 studied the gansta's lean, lil' brim no smile

lotta cash meanwhile

daddy had the chrystler 5th ave(y)

hustler on the block cars were aerodynamy

with ghetto paint jobs, mango m 3's

on 17 inch bb's, riding tough

the bike was huffy, attention was froze

and a 25 cent frozen cup laid my soul

the streets had mad the mold

since 14 holdin', pusha t was chosen

rebel like che' guerverra

rc tyco vs. carrera, pick!





malice: i think of grandma and the weight she would foot em'

she kinda remind me of madame queen in hoodlum

spoiled the grandkids, each one she would treasure

said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure

the cigarette dangled, 45 degree angle

still every bit a lady but u don't want to tangle

let that explain me and how i got involve

youngn's hustlin' in the creek...me,jon-jon and jamal





pusha t:age 15, walking thru the hallway

played the new jordans, 1st one on the scene

see i could afford them, living out a dream

hustler on the rise,laces untied

slid pass youngn's , couldn't break my stride

didn't know i was knotted in street ties

teachers asking how and why,bitches passing by (oh my he so gangsta)