Edge Jagged This Goes Out Lyrics

This Goes Out Lyrics

This goes out to all them hustlers 

 Everybody out there making them ends meet 

 I ain't mad at'cha 

 JE y'all, this goes out to everybody 

  

 This goes out to you, this goes out to you 

 (This goes out) 

 This goes out to you, this goes out to you 

 (I'm telling you this goes out) 

 This goes out to you, this goes out to you 

 (This goes out, hey) 

 This goes out to you, this goes out to you 

 (Oh, oh, oh, oh) 

  

 Some people sleep five to a bed 

 Three at the feet, two at the top 

 So I can't really talk about how they should live 

 When I know in my heart if it came down to it 

 I'd be getting down the same as them 

 See Lord, tryna hustle must be something heaven sent 

 A lot of rent wouldn't be made without this trade 

 That we call hustlin' 

  

 This goes out to the cats on the corner 

 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar 

 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out to the girls in the streets 

 Like going all out just so their kids can eat 

 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out... 

  

 I used to be half between 

 Going all out and doings things that I know just wasn't right 

 And now I'm looking back 

 And I think just do it or never did something 

 But I can tell you that 

 I'd probably take a bullet in my head than leave my family unfed 

 And that's the way it is 

 This goes out to my homies, yeah 

  

 This goes out to the cats on the corner 

 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar 

 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out to the girls in the streets 

 Like going all out just so their kids can eat 

 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out... 

  

 [Rap] 

 Uh, uh, uh 

 Ay yo I welcome the struggle 

 Like I welcome the hustle 

 Find the right one, take it and bubble 

 That's on the muscle 

 I ain't giving in, I'm trying to win 

 And if I gotta get my hands a little dirty 

 Then I'm sorry for sin 

 But the Fed don't understand ain't bred 

 So brothers gotta learn to bake to make bread 

 Chicks use their ass and shake to make breat 

 But I understand shorty keep them kids fed 

  

 This goes out to my whole 5-5-81 click 

 I often reminisce when we just dreamed of this 

 Rich cars, fine homes, girls with nice toes 

 Dime pieces standing in line to show us their thongs 

 Went from riding six deep in a little ass jeep 

 To Cadillac trucks and Benzes, prowling the streets 

 We gon' ball till we fall 

 Cause we fadin' em all 

 Put your glasses in the air, this goes out to y'all 

  

 This goes out to the cats on the corner 

 Stressin' and strugglin' just to get a dollar 

 I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out to the girls in the streets 

 Like going all out just so their kids can eat 

 Like I ain't mad at'cha, gotta do something 

 Hold your head up cause they can't touch you 

 This goes out... 

  

 My homies, you can't touch me 

 If you don't really know 

 This goes out to my homies 

 You can't touch me 

 If you don't really know 

 This goes out to my homies 

 You can't touch me 

 If you don't really know 

 This goes out to my homies 

 You can't touch me 

 If you don't really know