Ohh, JU-ICE, got my nigga Heron in the house with   me tonight. Conglom in this bitch, wattup Marvo   Whole crew in this motherfucker, for real. Malik   when is you gonna holla at yo boy man? I told you   niggaz what the truth was      [Juice]   I visualize a time when we can stop hustlin   A dozen cops while we on the blocks rock smugglin   And these little gray stones is so addictive   Niggaz even paid with they homes, is some sick shit   But in the hood, you either known them or you bail them out of county   Shit, you either own them, or you sell them for a bounty   Some even do both   Or crook it up too, shit all three like Kukoc   All this income, and still the block starvin   No monopoly, it's upscale gardens, not Marvin   The hood's real loaded up, my clip slaughter jerks   No boards to walk, you lucky if the water works   As I move on, I start to see the law love it   The hood's broken and I'm partially the cause of it   Very few get to start in this game   It's like the trey payin for profit, it's hard to explain      [Chorus]   I sold a lot of pounds, in and out of town   A nigga gotta clown. *I'm sick of hustlin*   I moved a lotta weight, through a lot of states   I could die today. *I'm sick of hustlin*   I moved a lotta bricks, screwed a lotta chicks   Viewed a lotta whips. *I'm sick of hustlin*   I break a lotta rules, I shake a lotta fools   I paid a lotta dues. *I'm sick of hustlin*      [Marvo]   I'm sick of hustlin, I had enough enough of this   Stuffin the bricks, the cops, they try to cuff me quick   And throw your face in the mud, why is you fuckers sick   Before I go to jail, homie I'ma up the fifth   It's so unfortunate, my actions brough me up to this   Just know there's other people like me and they stuck in this   State of mind, the blind meetin the blind   Everybody get they information from the grapevine   We could make it but niggaz just hate tryin   I own the cops, I'm 'bout to witness a hate crime   They make time, according to what the jakes find   Hustlin is like, squeezing grapes tryin to make wine   I'm tryin to bake a whole lotta bread and break mine   I'm on the block, cops come, it's hit the gate time   Hop in the truck, and we hit the interstate flyin   I try to stop but the hustler in me ain't dyin      [Chorus]      [Juice]   And Ma$e even said he bought a drop to tour on   But Ma$e ain't even go, that's a oxy moron   Bullets penetrate the chest of the innocent   Half the brock runners, only strip they ever get is in   My nigga Heron, he goes to fight in Iraq   He get right back and have to fight blacks   So you could go elsewhere, come back, no healthcare   Wife on wellfare, they tell you to put yourself there   So we slang 'caine, gangbang, remain sane   If it's even possible, a nigga gotta maintain   We put little bags of rocks in the hands of children   And conceal them while they're standing by abandon buildings   The richer we get, the broker the hood   Tyson is broke but Oprah is good   Touching the fo-fo, clutching it so so tight   I don't wanna have to hustle no more, right      [Chorus]