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Hustler's Ambition |
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| (Light the fire that needs the air) | Os Americanos tem uma coisa com essa porra |
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(I won't burn unless you're there) |
De gangta, eles me amam. |
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Botas pretas, gorros pretos e |
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Jaquetas de couro. |
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Vou rimando na batida do Raymo |
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Eu sou fã |
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Tem fita prata na coronha do 38 |
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As mulheres da minha vida |
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Trazem confusão e merda |
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Como Nino em New Jack |
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Eu acharei aquela puta |
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Olhe para mim, |
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Essa é a vida que escolhi |
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Manos me cercam tão frios |
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Cara, meu coração congelou. |
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Construí um Império na moita, |
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A policia não sabe |
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Sou o Cara do tempo |
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Pego folha de coca e faço virar neve |
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Sento, espero virar droga. |
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Vejo sair pela porta |
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Grama após grama, sabe. |
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Malandro, to viajando grande. |
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Manos no esquema |
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Um Tesão pela boa vida |
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Viciados só querem vicío |
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Escondo minha arma na boa |
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Para que você não veja |
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Penitenciaria é definitivamente |
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o que não quero pra mim |
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(Chorus) |
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Quero o melhor na minha vida |
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Assim, eu me viro. |
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Mano, se atravessar na frente |
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Enquanto eu faço a minha |
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Eu te apago |
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Não interessa quem é sua gangue |
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Ou de onde você vem |
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Foda-se, mano. |
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Quero o melhor na minha vida |
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Assim, me viro. |
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| Yeah, I need you,I need you to hate | A ambição de quem se vira |
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So I can use it for your anger |
Feche os olhos, veja minha visão. |
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you know, its real shit, feel this! |
Mosseberg pipocando, |
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Espingarda atirando, nada de drama |
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Faz parte do jogo |
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Me pegue no cupê, queimando o chão |
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Nas joalherias, com correntes |
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Evoluí do 30Bs para um Vs limpo |
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Pedras que roubei |
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Dos lucros do lugar |
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Tenho energia para vencer |
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Estou cheio de Adrenalina |
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Faço curva e tenho Náusea |
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Vendo a colota girar |
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Fiz planos, Para virar. |
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Um funcionário do estado |
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Agora peço que saia |
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Do meu pedaço. |
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As balas dele me derrubaram |
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Mas estou de volta à ativa |
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pó cristal no liquidificador |
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Faço Vitamina de Proteína |
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Sou o maior Playboy |
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Da costa leste, sangue bom |
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Hugh Hefner te conta |
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Ele não chega aos meus pés |
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Os federais me vigiam |
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Não Podem me parar |
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O racista me aponta: |
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Olha o Niggerace. Olá! |
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(Chorus) |
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| [Verse 1] | Quero o melhor na minha vida |
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American got a thing for this gangsta's shit, they love me |
Assim, eu me viro. |
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Black Chucks, black skullies, leather Pelle-Pelle |
Mano, se atravessar na frente |
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I take spills over raymo shit, I'ma fan |
Enquanto eu faço a minha |
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Got through the silver duck tape on my trait old handle |
Eu te apago |
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The women in my life bring confusion shit |
Não interessa quem é sua gangue |
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So like Nino when we new jack, I'll locate cancel that bitch |
Ou de onde você vem |
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Look at me, this is the life I chose |
Foda-se, mano. |
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Niggaz around me so cold, man my heart dun froze up |
Quero o melhor na minha vida |
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I build the empire on the low the narc's don't know I'm the weatherman |
Assim, me viro. |
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I take that coca leaf and make that snow | |
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Sit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the door | |
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O after O, you know, homey, I'm just triple beam, dreamin | |
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Niggaz be schemin, I friend to live the good life | |
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The friends are just friendin | |
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Conceal my weapon nice and easy so you can't see | |
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The penitentiary is definitely out the question for me | |
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| [Chorus] | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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Nigga you get in my way while I'm tryin to get mine | |
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And I'll buck you (buck you) | |
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I don't care who you run with, or where you from | |
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Nigga fuck you (fuck you) | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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| [Verse 2] | |
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Yeah, I don't know shit about gymnastics I summersault bricks | |
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Black talents start flyin, when a nigga flip | |
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I cook crack in the microwave, niggaz can't fuck with me | |
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Man my cold days, they called me chef boy are 50 | |
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Check my logic, smokers don't like seeds in their weed shit | |
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Send me them seeds, i'll grow them what they need | |
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Them ain't chia pet plants in the crib that's chronic | |
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And I'm sellin them 500 a pop god damn it | |
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I sold everythin I'ma hustler, I know how to grind | |
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Step on grapes put in water and tell you it's wine | |
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If you analyze me, what you'll find is the DNA of a crook | |
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| What goes in my mind, it's contagious | |
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Hypnotic, it sounds melodic | |
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If the rap was the block or spider, I'll be poke and butter | |
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Now get a load of me, flashy, far from low key | |
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And you can locate me where ever that dope be, be gettin money man | |
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| [Chorus] | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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Nigga you get in my way while I'm tryin to get mine | |
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And I'll buck you (buck you) | |
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I don't care who you run with, or where you from | |
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Nigga fuck you (fuck you) | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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| [Verse 3] | |
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It's a hustler's ambition, close your eyes listen, see my vision | |
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Mossberg dumpin, shotgun dumpin and drama means nothin | |
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It's part of the game, catch me in the coupe switchin lanes or | |
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In the jewels with your chains | |
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I upgrade from 30 B's to clean V's | |
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Rocks that I copped procedes from the spot | |
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I got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline | |
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Played the curve and get nauseous, watchin the spinner spin | |
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I'ma plan to make it, a prisoner of the state | |
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Now I can invite yo ass out to my estate | |
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Them hollow tip bent me up, but I'm back in shape | |
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Pour Crystal in the blender and make a protein shake | |
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I'm like the East coast number one playboy B | |
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Hugh Hefner'll tell you he don't got shit on me | |
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The feds watch me, icey they can't stop me | |
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Racist, pointin at me look at the nigga ratchi | |
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Hello! | |
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| [Chorus] | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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Nigga you get in my way while I'm tryin to get mine | |
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And I'll buck you (buck you) | |
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I don't care who you run with, or where you from | |
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Nigga fuck you (fuck you) | |
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I want to find the finer things in my life | |
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So I hustle (hustle) | |
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