"Keep Hustlin'" lyrics - WU-TANG CLAN

[Killah Priest]
Killah Priest, Son One
Doe Boy, M-80, this how we do it

Yo, fuzzie weed mixed with rosary beads
So I can puff and blow tails of coke sales
Smoke L's with the devil laughing
Assassin's blowing out gray horoscopes
That tells tomorrow hopes as caskets
Gun blasting, ratchets, tats across the abdomen
Vatican, pass the gin, flash the gems
On the neck - skeleton diamonds
Felons - secrete indictments
Priest - I'm held as the highest
With vivid raps
Y'all took from the hood now give it back
Brothers saying this and that
I'm just sitiin' back, relaxing
Kicking facts, counting Jackson's
Relax, living the Solomistic, hieroglyphics
That hydro twisted, this is dead souls revival lyrics
Praise the Lord, raise the sword, engage in war
The roads are paved before me
Chant my name in glory

[Chorus M-80:]
Hustlin', grindin'
Re-up put work on consignment
Then cash in
My clientele is swell
I flood the streets like the sewers let loose
Know my name rings bells in the game
'Cause I'm the truth
Keep hustlin', grindin'
Re-up put work on consignment
Then cash in
My clientele is swell
I flood the streets like the sewers let loose
Know my name rings bells in the game
'Cuz I'm the truth, keep hustlin'

[Doe Boy]
I was born a hustler, I'ma die a hustler
I only ride with hustlers, by my side's a hustler
Got the mind of a hustler, soul of a king
You can't drink from this bowl if you wearing my ring
Those that live by the gun gonna die by the bing (pop)
I'm making deals with the devil; I can buy you a dream
I've seen murder scenes, hoes get done
Snitches face down in a puddle of blood
Swept under a rug (shh) and covered with dirt
As tears fall from the eyes of a mother that's hurt
I've got blood in my ride and mud on my shirt
Yet we both gotta die rather you go first
Shit
Just lit a blunt once it's done, I'm leaving
Going back to my block 'cause my block needs me
I'm always on the clock, get money while I'm sleeping
I guess I'll stop while this beat's still breathing
Good eating

[Chorus M-80]

[Son One]
I know losing her base, no plans for the trouble
One shot, won't pump fake, one hand on the metal thing
Dance with the devil
Never ran when they clash with a clan full of rebels
The beef's unsettled, I'd say
Keep hustlin', the weak keep struggling
Son High Chief good trees stay puffing
Born where the hammers blaze
Games I don't care to play
I write 'cause my words bear gifts like Santa came
I do my thing-thing, trying to stack a couple bundles
Get acquainted with Benjamin's, staying on the humble
We just getting over, ends overlapping
Trying to see the lavish life while this doe is stacking
High enough, times is tough, plus the grind is rough
Keep your mouth wired shut when the roller's riding up
'Cause it's all or nothing, nothing equals death
Death is called the cousin of sleep
So live for something, peace!

[Chorus M-80]