"Hustlaz Song" lyrics - LUPE FIASCO

Let me what the sun don't like, caught somewhere between stop and go like yellow lights. (ah ha) hustla so I got to get it mellow ride me down the block around the clock nothin' nice. I roll like cherry red yellow dice just watch it pop call it the "kettle white", its hot, just the block, call it the "ghetto wife", Paul McCane it's my ball and chain, mi amor.
Hopefully I won't fall and hang, like pictures on the wall or halls of fame. Its jus a boy man, look what it all became nothin' all, but look at all remains, all the flossy things, marks from all the claws and fangs, remarks from all of y'all have changed. Bustin' back all y'all I trained, apologize 'cause of all of y'all I blame...
This what hustlaz do. An you ain't did it to a hustlaz do. An you didn't know it till a hustla knew. An you ain't done till a hustlaz threw. I'm a customer too it's what hustlaz do. an you ain't seen it till you seen it from a hustla'z view. open yo eyes it's a hustlaz song. God forgive if the hustle is wrong.
Its bigger things so he becomes to know shit. Striving to be numba one till I overdose.I speak it now on my tongue hold it from youngest son, runnin' from older quotes, \"Thou shall not sin, thou shall not steal, thou shall not kill, thou shall not turn your back on those in need, I try to flip, but these government slips teach me at these chosen speeds. I'm just a rose in weeds, and I arose with reasons, to stay on this road I lead, till I leave with what I sold, my soul indeed, leave my son with the sum of what I sold in deeds. I'm foldin y'all, probably headed for the pin like bowling balls, kept it directed at the pen and wrote it for y'all.
It takes a lot of patience when you takin' it on, a lot of patent a lot of makin' it known, but I ain't the type of nigga that be placin' it on.I was the king of this city now they replacing the thrown. I know it's a lot of hatin' waitin at home, and she ain't waitin you can hear the bass in her tone, like she can't make it alone in a broken home and she the brace for the bone just embracin the phone a lot of ballin up letters a lot of erasing the poems, a lot of comin' to grips that you gonna be facin alone. All this time all this time you was wrong.But you know whatever happens I got you, and you know what happened done happened they was happy to drop you, not letters and shoes, no chedda, Yo mom sold shoes and sweaters she's not better.