Ice-T back in that ass  Return of the real  Muthafuckas fakin and frontin like they don't know what time it is  Niggas on the streets ain't really got a muthafuckin choice  Muthafucka    (So niggas is forced to do dirt)[Prodigy]    Born hustler    I only run with real niggas who wear gold and jewels  Diamond rings, strapped with tools  I take no shorts cause I been in it for the long one, the strong one  Gotta tell the truth, yo, half my niggas is on the run  Street giant defiant to the laws  That the white man made, nigga  That's why we play, nigga  A/k/a the street hustler from the Westside  Too damn fly, too much finesse for the hoo ride  I rather take a mark off smooth  Cause the skilll of a hustler 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, fool, I base my hustle not on strength  But think, you say 'the liqor store', I say 'brinks'  Cause my mind's on the massive roll 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 hustlers win, the busters won't  What can I say, you can't come out and play  With the real ones, dig this  You'll get broke with the quickness  I don't gamble, I cheat when it's on  Two g's on the table, two in my palm  And if I spill up, I pull the nickel .25 strap  Then the place gets flat and then I'm out the back  With my niggas and them 4's on thangs  And if I really wanna floss I flex my Bentley wings  Damn, over your head, got a problem  Keepin lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve em  But the game's extreme so quit your high beams  And increase the light, now can you see me, you might  If you ever been to jail or shot, sold rocks  I'm talkin 'bout weight down like movin ki's and pounds  But every nigga in the hood ain't fly  Light-skinned or dark, they're 90% marks  Straight vics and they got money to give  Then without em tell, me how the hell a hustler lives..    I got no love for a lame  I use my strategy from crack to rap, no shame  And now instead of cooking some ki's  I'm flippin million dollar ??? call em wack MC's  But suckers got it twisted, they missed it  Wastin they life when yo, they mentally gifted  The streets ain't the only fuckin hustle in town  You gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way down  But a buster is a buster for life  He makes excuses why his ass ain't pay  That shit's played  Cash rules everything around me, kid  I hit a 50'000 lick and never did no bid  Cause I'm bent on a come-up and my shit stays tight  How many fake gangsta rappers will I hear tonight?  It don't matter cause the real don't care  You know I'ma gonna get mine, so I'ma let em get theirs  But I know in the heart what's true  So if you listen very closely, maybe you will too  My mind's blown off Armani suits  Pavet medaillons, [Name] boots  Cristal and steak, shrimp big as your hand  I bought a silk robe and it's from Siam  This jam's for the hoods and thugs  Pimps and hoes, the slingers of drugs  Hustlers and thieves, cons and crooks  Bookers and sharks, muthafuck the marks  Nigga