Hustle For The Same Thing Songtext

No matter where you from
Europe, France, Switzerland
Amsterdam, Houston, Cali, get money

[Chorus: Fingazz]
It don't matter where you from (We stay on the grind)
We do what we gotta do (Got money on the mind)
In my hood
In y'all hood
We gotta hustle for the same thing
We gotta get it, gotta get it, gotta get it, right
We gotta get it, gotta get that money
We gotta get it, gotta get it, gotta get it, right
We gotta get it, gotta get that money

[Verse 1: Lil' Flip]
We grind for the same thang
I got a few partners on the chain gang
And ain't never comin' home, you know
When you locked up Your woman gone
You'll do the same thang (If you ain't got no cash)
You'll do the same thang (If you ain't got no ass)
I'm addicted to cash, I'm allergic to haters
Blunts make my throat burn (Nigga, roll up a paper)
Flossy in Vegas, then I light optimos
All this ice, got me with a flock of hoes
In H-Town
Niggas get paid for real
Fuck what you heard
We chop on blades, for real
Pimp C back home, gettin' his money on
Like Puffy Combs, the nigga got his own calogne
And two big homes, plus I got exotic cars
It feel good to be a ghetto star (I wouldn't trade it)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Mr. Capone-E]
It's a struggle that we live for
Stayin' alive
While Bush startin' more wars
Out grindin'
Money is a object
Gas prices going up, and how we s'pposed to solve this
Trade my humble for that GT Bentley
I'm trying to come up
Homey, why you envy?
Ain't my fault, I'm that number one stunna
Don't Get It Twisted was my business summer
Shine the hoes with the cash flows
Buy the Don Perignon, at the optimo
Can I get a V.I.P. at The Lounge, partner?
They never seen a bald-headed homey eating lobster
Trippin' cocktails, all drinks on me
Jokers givin' out tat's
At the party
Time for the brams, to make that cash
Sittin' next to George Lopez
He made me laugh

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lil' Flip]
In my hood, niggas get money all day
Look, before I hit the blunt, I stop and pray
Each and every day
I never forget
I rap now, but you know, a nigga came from bricks
Catchin' lights movin' white
To get that green
Ain't no furniture, but shit, I got me a flat screen
That was '98
Now I got cake
In the 18-room grill like Bobby Plate

[Mr. Capone-E:]
I got a house on the hills and the house in the hood
A house on the beach, and I'm still up to no good
Acting a fool, tryna stay sucker-free
After party at the club, chill, V.I.P.
Cause I'm dressed like the president
Call my chauffer
Ladies love me, so I tell 'em, "Come closer"
And gimme a kiss, cause ya boy made a hit
It's all about the money
Now, just sing
Oh!

[Chorus]

[Fingazz:]
Gotta get it, gotta get it, gotta get it, right
Gotta get it, gotta get that money
"Fi-fi"
[scratching]
"Fi-Fingazz on the track"
We gotta get it, gotta get that money
Gotta get it, gotta get it, gotta get it, right
Gotta get it, gotta get that money
Gotta get it, gotta get it, gotta get it, right
Gotta get it, gotta get that money