Pimpz Thugz Hustlaz And Gangstaz Lyrics

Pimpz Thugz Hustlaz And Gangstaz lyrics

Krayzie: 

If you a pimp, 

nigga, pimp them hoes. 

If you a thug, you 

better get ready for war. 

If you a hustla, 

make your dough. 

If you a gansta, 

let your gun smoke. 


Krayzie: 

Took a trip out to Texas and I find real niggas, 

remind me of mine. A nigga can vibe, 'cause y'all 

some cold as* playa playas. 

Hey, there, Mo Thug and we gotsta give 'em some 

love, so now you're dealin' with the big pimps and the 

thugs. You gettin' 

too close and we f**kin' you up, you don't really 

want that 'cause I know these ain't no hoes you 

f**kin' with. Touched down 

and got with the realest niggas in the town. Now 

look who's in the Suave House, yes it's truly-yours, 

Mister Sawed-Off 

Leatherface, a warrior ready for war, a natural 

soldier boy, ready to move out, nigga, ready to get 

with the shoot out. In the 

meanwhile, I still gotta make me some money to get 

by. Yeah, I finally connected, and hooked up with 

MJG, made money, 

'cause all that other sh*t don't mean a thing to me. 

But try to run up and I'm leavin' you stunned. Nobody 

will know who shot 

that pump, 'cause I'm gonna dump it and run. Put 'em 

on the pave, and hey, that nigga that did it was 

wearin' a Leather Face, 

and not to be played with. 

Whatever you claim, you better get paid. Shit. 


Krayzie: 

If you a pimp, 

nigga, pimp them hoes. 

If you a thug you, 

better get ready for war. 

If you a hustla, 

make your dough. 

If you a gangsta, 

let your gun smoke. 


MJG: 

Who be I? The nigga who pimpin' up plenty of hoes, 

look at the size of the bank that he hold. Natural 

born. Mind control. 

False niggas' gang blown away. It makes you wonder 

why niggas be hatin'. They jealous, they fellas be 

lookin' to take you 

under. It seems like the more that we get, you come 

with that shit, lookin' for ways to drive us insane, 

confusin' our brain. I'm 

settin' up traps for rats who snatch cheese. Fly 

like a trapeze artist. Tell 'em to bring it on, I 

comes the hardest. MJG, pimp, 

runnin' with Bone, dividing the throne. Regardless 

of niggas who stand in my path, I'm bringin' it on. 

Recitin' the lyrical gift, the 

shit that give me the bit*hes, the money, the cars. 

How do you know when you're goin' too far? The 

further you get, the 

further you are. Shit, I breaks in half crook 

niggas. Don't make me laugh. Now, uh, which ones the 

head and, huh, which 

one's the ass? Where your bit*h at collectin' my 

cash? Now who would've know the bit*h is a hood-rat. 

Increasin' my stash, 

leavin' you fast. You're thinkin' I'm slippin', I'm 

grippin' the TEC. Look at the bullets, they rippin' 

his vest open, puttin' a hole in 

his chest. In pieces, that nigga decided to rest. 
 

I'm leavin' you grievin', believin' in pimpin'. The 

shit that I got is the sh*t that I'm 

given. Constantly livin' that life 

of a thug, drinkin' the Hen, smokin' the bud. 


Krayzie: 

If you a pimp, 

nigga, pimp them hoes. 

If you a thug you, 

better get ready for war. 

If you a hustla, 

make your dough. 

If you a gangsta, 

let your gun smoke. 


Layzie: 

Too many fake niggas done tried to contend and dead 

again. Pinned that they couldn't win. Kid took it to 

the head with a fifth 

of Hen now I'm in the wind--500 Benzo, we roll, roll. 

Rod J came through with the Mack-10; Wish trippin' 

when I pulled out 

the glock. You know that all of my niggas be ready 

this pop-pop, comin' with the heat cocked, 'cause it 

never did stop. 

Everybody I know out lookin' for a come up, we 

creep, it's deeper than the way you perceive a thug, 

no love, take a nigga 

through the mud everytime I try him for a wordly 

grudge. What? Nigga will bust till the point of no 

return, I'm out here slangin', 

paper chasin'. Erasin' my poverty and I gotsta be 

that soldier claimin' Mo! Even though it get hectic, 

respect it. Nigga, knock 

my struggle, uh-oh, they'll gets more chaos and I 

won't stop till I piece this puzzle. I'm a go gather 

up all lost souls show 'em the 

way to the road to be real, give 'em a deal, train 

'em to kill, haters meet and my soldiers in a battle 

field. We marchin', ready 

for war, buck the law--they ain't on our side. Hell 

yeah, we can meet up at the district. I'm bringin' it 

to you, ready to die. 

See, I am so sick of oppression, sh*t ain't 

changed, Little Lay still stressin'. No question, 

clutchin' there no more weapon, 

'cause a po-po wanna sweat my blessings and uh, you 

probably feelin' me sensin' some danger, but I'm 

bringin' the sense of an 

angel to the table. Watch me put it down for Mo, and 

them Suave House niggas. So, willing and ready to 

make a few dollars 

and split a few wigs . If that's what it is, you 

better be mindin' your business, or be beggin' 

forgiveness. You know all I'm 

saying is don't 

f**k with me, man. 


Krayzie: 

If you a pimp, 

nigga, pimp them hoes. 

If you a thug you 

better get ready for war. 

If you a hustla 

make your dough. 

If you a gangsta, 

let your gun smoke. 


Eightball: 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Bone Thugs. Mo 

Thugs. Eightball, the fat mack, and MJ-f**kin'-G. 

The realest niggas 

alive, yea. Thuggin', pimpin', bit*h, this sh*t 

don't stop. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? All 

over the muthaf**kin' world and 

back again, bit*h. 

Space-age forever.