Lyrics Nipsey Hussle – Hussla Hoodsta

— This is the time for us to come off of our knees and stand up to make a difference in our communities
— I am not afraid of them, and I’m trying to instill in my neighbors, there’s no need for us to be afraid
— No matter what City Hall says and promises, people in this community, still very much intimidated by the Rolling 60s
One Rolling 60s hangout is just outside this grammar school, where parents are reluctant to go on camera talking about the gang or their fears of it

Look, see, I was, born in the ’80s and raised in the 60s
My pockets were full of 5s, shoe boxes were full of 50s
Slauson, nigga, come on, follow and get with me
Sellin’ dope for that Rolex chain and some fresh Dickies
I was duckin’ them choppers with burners in my stash box and
Swallowin’ rocks while runnin’ from them CRASH cops
Nights, I kept it on my hip, the Johnny hot, shit
Nights I left it in my dresser, homies got chipped
To be kill or be killed, and I ain’t talkin’ poetry
If niggas ain’t snitchin’, then how the fuck they know it’s me?
Catch me breakin’ nine zones down, nigga, that’s a quarter ki
And sellin’ work to big homies, my older G’s
In a luxury set, my chrome thang’s gettin’ blunted
Fuck it, I’m feeling good, I got two per set of hundred
Money was never nothin’ ’cause these blocks was Rollin’
And the spot stay poppin’ ’cause my rocks was swollen

You know that I’m a hustla, so, you know
I’ma always stay paid
You know that I’m a hoodsta, so, you know
I never turn down a fade
You know that I’m a hustla hustla hustla
You know that I’m a hood, hood, hood

Granny, they still shootin’, I can’t get no sleep
And it’s too late to change ’cause I’m in too deep
Niggas gon’ ride to the shit I’m sayin’, that’s on the real
Niggas done died for this shit I’m claimin’
From over here to Western Ave, yeah we run that
Hop out and bust a nigga head, yeah, I done that
But I ain’t braggin’, though, really, it’s about capital
And all this goddamn money gave me an attitude
Smiles like I’m mad at you
Late night grindin’, posted on the BG
Hood homies, the tiny loc and supreme team
Meek Baby, Set Trip, if it’s J. Stone
First to bo, light that kush blunt for X gone
This for my nigga Tiny Inhead that’s fresh home
And Little Chopper facing life, homie, stay strong
Stay slow, baby, one shot and bolt the facts
The homies is here and Slauson where we posted at

You know that I’m a hustla, so, you know
I’ma always stay paid
You know that I’m a hoodsta, so, you know
I never turn down a fade
You know that I’m a hustla hustla hustla
You know that I’m a hood, hood, hood
You know that I’m a hustla hustla hustla
You know that I’m hood, hood, hood, hood