[Young E]

[Verse 1]

Dont give me a fucking mic, cause i'll kill that shit

I make it funky, cause i'll top bill that shit

I ain't a fighter much, but I'll fuck a nigga up

Cause I ain't even playin', this is a stick up

Fuckin' with me, this is your last mistake

Rappers outta breath, this is the asthma stage

Say something I don't like, and feel my rage

The most I've ever been paid, was minimum wage

And you listeners think I'm successful?

Shit, and nice? I am far from disrespectful

I like to give shows, call me projectful

These niggas can't do shit, get the stencil

These wanna-be's wanna be me, but tagging with pencil

They using Sharpies and carrying a couple of stickers

And they think they're badass, eating a Snickers

Plus posting shit all too much, posting wack pictures

They need to shutup before they get even sicker

[Verse 2]

These nympho type bitches need to get off my sack

These rappers need to quit before they get attacked

And these problems don't ever, ever go away

But yes I make mistakes, from day to day

I'll probably make one a day from today

But aside from today, my life is great

Oh, how was the past you say? fucked up

I don't like that shit for shit, so shutup

But I don't know about the future yet

And Latin Hustle ain't as big as Odd Future yet

And we don't really see our future yet

But there's girl in it so we know our future's wet

I already know that my shit be too gee

These stupid ass hoes don't need to tell me

I'm saying fuck you, so watch the fuck out

I'm way outta my own league, what's up now?!

I kinda like school, so I say fuck suspension

But I know I'm cool, I don't need fuckin' detention

I almost hate it as much as fuckin' friendship

I'm terrorizing shit, somewhat of an illuminati

Fucking with me, i'll leave your bones rotting

These bitches need to stop bitchin', get to the suckin' up

These rappers want shit?, i'll get to the fuckin' up

These shooters want a shootout?, i'll get to the tuckin' up

Ace be somewhat of a Step Brother, we're here to fuck shit up

[Verse 3]

This is not for the radio, too many cussin' words

I'm so fly, is that why I be fuckin' birds?

I dislike friends, but I hate my enemies

I dislike problems, but I hate ten of me

I dislike using force, but hate waistin' my energy

I love my life, but I'm hated like an allergy

I love my mind, but I'm forgotten like a memory

The bells ringing, so I let them ring

I ain't got shit yet, what the fuck is bling?

I only rap, cause I wouldn't like to sing

Latin Hustle Ravagers, Latin Hustle ravagin'

Latin Hustle Savagers, Latin Hustle savagin'

Latin Hustle Damagers, Latin Hustle damagin'

Young E be Somewhat Gee, that's how I roll

Latin Hustle be fuckin' Gee, that's how we roll

Shoutout to the Latin Hustlers Woods, Ace, and Flow

We got some guns, and we about to take control

We be Mic Murdererin' or maybe Killin' All

We on that First Impression shit, we don't stall

We killin' them Fake Assumers, we feelin' tall

We be The New Ones, and we ain't about to free fall