Yeah. What up dog? T-Do' nigga? Shit. (What up dog, nigga?) Shit. Fire up this blunt nigga. You know what I'm saying, dog? Shit, ain't nothing. Crazier than a motherfucker out here. Dog, you know what I'm saying? Nigga out here tryin' to get that bread. Know what I'm saying? Niggas out here hatin' on me. (The only way we gon' get home is we gon' have to work it, nigga.) Ya'll done fucked up.
Bizzy Bone
How could you blame us? The snitch'll remain nameless/ You fucked up! (?)/ Bitches be bangin' with the 7 Sign Mafia/ Some niggas act like weasels/ Broke out (?) of Prada/ Who wanna be Don Dada? Who wanna be Sean Cada? Don't want to be monsters/ I'm a model, why would I be bothered? Killers Incorporated/ Low Low on that, six figures/ I split my dope with my fingers and I split my weed with scissors/ Somehow I want some pussy/ (?)/ Cellular mackin'/ Mercedes Benzes and six figures/ lifted and (?)/ Mind over matter/ My lustin' will save me (?)/ Scratchin' scrapin' whatever you call that/ (?) till the mercenaries tell me to fall back/ And if I die, promise me you'll burn me and never bury/ Oh, mercy Mary, givin' my body away
-Chorus-
You belong to the city/ You belong to the night/ Hustlin' in the mid of the darkness/ (?)
(And like it or not we gon ' boss up at the spot/ Like it or not we gon' always run the block)
Third World Hustla'z (1)
I only fuck with a few, ain't no love for you/ Cocksuckers got tuckers for them on-the-block huggers/ Block busters, block buster get no respect 'cause if I slip one time they might leave me wet/ See the rats in the hole, keep a gat when we roll/ Take a package of the dope and we back on the stroll/ Crackin' mo' blazin' trees up while we makin' D's bust/ I'm hopin' that the D-E-A don't cease us/ You needs nuts to survive, everybody get high/ And when the 'hood ride by, look 'em dead in they eye/ Got to keep your fronts up and stay low-key/ Dog, roll the blunts up, then blaze for me/ Raise for G's till I leave this earth/ I'm a always hustle and keep some work/ I'm from the Third One Third, my dog, heard some word about the lames spittin' venom so we purved the burb, and served them curbs 24/7 nonstop/ We gon' keep the block ringin' with rifles and glocks {gunshots ring out.} (Damn nigga, you hear that shit?)
-Chorus-
You belong to the city/ You belong to the night/ Hustlin' in the mid of the darkness/ (?)
(And like it or not we gon ' boss up at the spot/ Like it or not we gon' always run the block)
Third World Hustla'z (2)
If you got to pay dues, you got to pay them to them crew/ But real; If you ain't shoot, no parlayin' with the crew/ No need for the words, if it's beef is beef/ Let me know when it's on and we gon' heat the street/ DVD in the hide, I look hot and then I slide out/ Tippin' on the gat, bust caps, and then I ride out/ It's us against the world, goin' against the grain/ If your ass in violation, then it's out of my hand/ You're watchin' my hands, boy, you'll see the rocks in my hand/ When it's all said and done you needin' oxygen, man/ I'm from where they slang hard and pop at the van/ Hot lead'll keep the cops in the van, they can feel that/ I'm sippin' six pack, vibin' off Pac, 21 shot as I'm ridin' up the block/ I need peso, dinero/ Heat like Rob De'Niro/ My life's situatuions is like broken arrows
-Chorus-
You belong to the city/ You belong to the night/ Hustlin' in the mid of the darkness/ (?)
(And like it or not we gon ' boss up at the spot/ Like it or not we gon' always run the block)
Available on the Third World Hustla'z album (Unknown Album) (2005)