Outro – Baby Bash – letras

(feat. Butch Cassidy, Don Cisco, Nino Brown, RussellLee, Mr. Kee)[Mr. Kee:]YeahHustler’s themeWorldwideCome on[Hook: Mr. Kee]All money ain’t good moneyStack your chipsLet it flip like some hood moneyCock them rimsLet ’em spin on them haters, manAnd all the playersWorldwide, do your thug thang (The hustler’s theme)All money ain’t good moneyStack your chipsLet it flip like some hood moneyCock them rimsLet ’em spin on them haters, manAnd all the playersWorldwide, do your thug thang[Pre-Verse: Baby Bash]I take a slow beat (Slow beat)And spit a hard rap (Hard rap)Pobre, I ain’t retarded, you know we off that (Offthat)From the west, my brother, to the eastBack downTo the diggy dirty for sherzy (What the feezy?)[Pre-Verse][Verse 1: Baby Bash]Now I walk around like I got a rock in my sockWhen it’s just a limb, from this money right in mypocketPimpI know you smell it cause it’s gettin’ you nauciousCause the shit I’m layin’ on this track is Brown asthe Foxy’sI’m the done dealerDon Dadda, fresh out of GuatemalaSome say, « Bash, you the shit »In Spanish, I’m the dadaIt’s the million dollar Mexi, the mack, God he donebless meGirls wanna caress me, like I’m Elvis Presley[Chorus: Russell Lee]It don’t stopStraight to the top til the game lockYou know I gotta rep for my hood and my blockStackin’ up my bread, make me stand a little tallerCollectin’ my winnings without punching no glocksThe game’s gettin’ hard, so I gotta get smarterWatching out for cops, cause my homies got knockedDrought seas in our cheer, but my pocket’s ain’tstarvin’That’s why I stay chargin’You know we won’t stop[Verse 2: Don Cisco]This is for my heavyweightersPullin’ strings like elevatorsWhere my ops in full swing, I’ll be standing on top ofskyscrapersSeventy stories or moreEventually the public’llKnow my story, fa’ shoMake a householdName out of Don CiscoGo from a hustlerBorn and grind, tryin’ to find some doughTo the billion dollarBoy clubMexicali thug styleI gotMoney to get back, I’m fresh off the drug droughtFED’s couldn’t stop me, head shots didn’t pop meWouldn’t lock, never got me, I’m the same player,still cockyBossed outHoppin’ out of the droughtLookin’ flossed out, everything chopped, even the cropBelieve I’m the don, listen, everything I’m breathingonRepresent west side til the rider in me’s dead andgoneMe and Bash do thingsButch Cassidy, singLet ’em know it’s all know, the cash prestineCome on[Bridge: Butch Cassidy]Ain’t nobody gonna stop me nowI’m gonna do everything I canAnd ain’t nobody gonna stop my flowYou gonna hear me from coast to coastButSomebody’s gonna make me madAnd I’m a take everything they haveSo put it all in the pastAnd do it so quick, so fast[Hook][Verse 3: Nino Brown]HomeboyI got the grid lockedThat good yatch, gone breezesAnd they serve rockSome motherfuckers can’t caught blocksTrey hopRoley bezel for you got swappedYou like spider monkey, Nino Brown’s sasquatchThem little haters, they be tickling meBrush ’em off, like the dust, on my Stacy, homieOnce again, it’s that motherfuckin’ Mexican withattitudePaid my duesSteady, grindin’ through the avenuesDogder blue, homieThe city that I representLos Scandulous, city where my homies didFuck a fedKeep ’em Presidential stacked upHear what I said, little soldiers gettin’ taxed upBack the fuck up, move, biotchGet out the wayYou know the set, holmesAnd myA. stompin’Walkin’ in my big brown bootsFlossin’Stankin’ eagle, that’s my rootsMotherfucker[Chorus][Verse 4: Mr. Kee]Now put your money where your mouth is, anybody whodoubt thisWherever you see the westside, that’s probably wherethe south isUnited like a gang truce, khakis pants and house shoesBut out in the Yay, it’s throwbacks, beanies andbulletproofSpinners in their mouthpiece, heat up, and the oldschoolFunk jump, no questions asked, ride like we supposedtoUp in my city, see the bridge and the fallKnow where the place on earth to be, than where thisreal turn offI’m smashing off a side show, but money must comefirstThis ain’t no overnight choice, I’m been a hustlersince birthThey call me Mr. Kee, the Latin bossLatin king, Latin donSpittin’ like the Latin play, tryin’ to put his LatinsonAnd they say money is the root of all evilBut there ain’t nothing in this world to make me crossup my peopleI swear to God, I’ll be a soldier til I’m six in thedirtMy Henny bottle in my casket and a fist full of wordsThe hustler’s theme[Chorus]