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Artist: 2Pac f/ Outlawz Immortalz
Album:  The Chronic 2000 (Unreleased)
Song:   Hell For a Hustler (Original Version)
Typed by:

Chorus: [2pac](Yaki Kadafi over chorus)

Oh Lord, help me change my ways
show a little mercy on judgement day
it ain't me, I was rasied this way
never let 'em play me for a busta
makin' hell for a hustler

(If it's on then it's on, we break beat-breaks
Outlawz on a paper chase, can you relate
to this shit I don't got, be the shit I gotta take
Dealin with fate, hoping God don't close the gate
If it's on then it's on, we break beat-breaks
Outlawz on a paper chase, can you relate
to this shit I don't got, be the shit I gotta take
Dealin with fate, hoping God don't close the gat)

Verse 1 [2Pac]

increase the doses, bustin' on whoever closes
thug livin', hell in prison, never loosen my focus
I'm makin' money, moves mandatory, end of discussion
my past records tell the story, picture niggas be rushin'
still bustin', til the cops come runnin', duckin' abandon buildings
picture my gun, open over the fuckin' ceiling
I live the lifestyles of drug dealers, but now they get me
so I laugh til I'm cry, when the Lord come get me
no baby momma drama, nigga missed me
why plant seeds to a dirty bitch waitin' to trick me
not a life for me, livin' carefree til I'm buried
and if they dare me, I'll bust on them niggas, and will they scurry
I'm clearly, a man of military means, to my artilary
watchin' over me thru every murder scene
from adolecence, to early teens, tho' we was gonna die,
sellin' dope to all the feens, sometimes I wanna cry
still, we try to change the past in vein
never knowin' if this game will last, feelin' the shame
cocain, the product of this devil, am I sellin' my soul
got a small time livin' nigga tellin' me no
I got mine, fuck them other suckas
that's in matablaty, jealous ass bustas makin' hell for a hustler


Verse 2 [EDI]

How do these cowards be concieved
they born into this world, allowed to breathe
while so many real G's they die secret
but Outlawz, we ride so rightously
control the destiny, we mobbin' with a sight
to see, all together, never separately

Verse 3 [Yaki Kadafi]

It's it a criminal hobby
that got me here thinkin' robbery
call Oz up the ave uptown back in Cabust
and not a lot of poverty, weather you white like dark
or brown like Bobby, while dime bitches give me body til
they open

Verse 4 [Kastro]

Now that's the good of all evil, so tell me what's the worse
me deep in my hurst, stuck in crime like time fly over here
first, waitin' for credit, contemplatin' my fate,
and is the Lord comin', to take me on Judgement Day

Verse 5 [Young Noble]

They got the feens using up beens with dirty blood on a eagle
stranded, blunted in his van, don't give a damn if you see 'em
most likey I'm a real nigga, so while the 2 Loc,
five shots will leave yall to live or die

Verse 6 [Napoleon]

Well I been hustlin' off the same block since a little shorty wap
taped up notts so my sock, duckin' the muthafuckin' cops
watch me shop up, and locked up, come back and blow the block up
preoccupied with gettin' my cheese and fuck the process


Verse 7 [2Pac]

No insanity plead from me, I rock the beat til I burn
since of me royal kids from the lessons I learned
and in turn I'm hostile, can you recall me in essence
social nigga shakin' like they caught the holy ghost when I approach
try to politic before I smoke 'em, like sun sue
niggas doin' to these snitches, before it's done to you
and if the cops come arrest me in the evening
best believe they runnin' form my dogs in the morning
and if I die by a slug, the death of a true thug
tell me will my niggas mourn me, gettin' blowed out
high watch me murder the bird before he testify
strikes walking close to my 3rd, I live a trouble life
and if you dream, be apart of my team from Long Beach to Queens
drug dealers to ex-feens
keep yo eyes on the prize, nigga watch for bustas
either heaven or jail, it's still hell for a hustler...

Outro: [2Pac]

Jay-Z die slow, Biggie, Piggy, Puffy die slow
nigga it ain't stoppin me
War, war nigga, All my niggas with they name on they neck
give us respect or die and get chin checked, WestSide