Sangtekst: Lupe Fiasco. Nice Muhammad Walks.

[verse 1]

lemmie tell ya what this fellow like, caught somewhere between stop and go like yellow lights(uh-huh)
hustla so i gotta get it mellow right, down the block, round the clock, mezl like(?)
i roll like cherry red jello dice, it whats(?) just the pop callin the kettle white
its hot, just the block callin the ghetto wife, karma came its my ball and chain
me or more hopefully i wont fall or hang like pictures on the walls, the halls of fame
its just a boy man...look at what it all became, good and all but look at what, all remains
all the, floors and thangs, marks from all the claws and fangs, there were marks from all of yall that changed
bustin back and all of yall i trained, apologizin ta all of yall i blamed

*HOOK*
Its what hustlas do and you aint did it till a hustla do
and you aint know it till a hustla knew
and you aint done till a hustla through, imma customer to
its what hustlas do, and you aint seen it till you seen it through a hustlas view
open ya eyes its a hustlas song, god forgive if this hustla's wrong

[verse 2]
its bigger things, so we pose a notion, strivin to be numba 1 till i overdose
i speak it now with it on my tounge or the trought, youngest son runnin from older quotes
thou shall not sin, thou shall not steal, thou shall not kill, thou shall not turn ya back on those in need
i try ta flip but the government switch keeps me at his chosen speed, im just a rose in weeds
and i rolls with reasons ta stay on this road i lead, till i leave with what i sold, my, soul and deeds
leave my son with the sum in what i sold in deeds.....i foldin yo...probly headed for the pin like bowlin balls
kept it directed at the pen and wrote it for yall..


*HOOK*
Its what hustlas do and you aint did it till a hustla do
and you aint know it till a hustla knew
and you aint done till a hustla through, imma customer to
its what hustlas do, and you aint seen it till you seen it through a hustlas view
open ya eyes its a hustlas song, god forgive if this hustla's wrong


[verse 3]
it takes alot of patence when you takin it on...alot of pacein...alot of makin it known
i aint the nigga they be placin it on, i was the king of this city...now they replacin the thrown
i know its alot of...hatin waitin at home, that she aint waitin you can hear the bass in her tone
like she cant make it alone a broken home and she need brace for the bones, all this from just embracin the phone
alot of ballin up letters, alot of erasin of poems, alot of commin ta grips with the fact that you gonna be facin alone
all this time, all this time you was wrong, you know whatever happens i got you
and whatever happen that happen(?), they was happy ta drop you, no letters or shoes
no cheddar your mom sold sweaters, refuse to know better

*HOOK*
Its what hustlas do and you aint did it till a hustla do
and you aint know it till a hustla knew
and you aint done till a hustla through, imma customer to
its what hustlas do, and you aint seen it till you seen it through a hustlas view
open ya eyes its a hustlas song, god forgive if this hustla's wrong