Respect This Hustle

By T.I.

On T.I. vs T.I.P.

Released on July 3, 2007

5K Views

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[Intro]


[T.I.P]

Huh, yeah AY! You already know what this is homie!


[T.I]

Aye, what you yellin' for man?


[T.I.P]

Man shut the fuck up talkin' to me man


[T.I]

Man calm down shorty


[T.I.P]

Nah you calm down, I ain't got shit to say to you man


[T.I]

Man see that's why I don't even fuck wit'chu dawg


[T.I.P]

Hollywood ass nigga, I don't fuck with YOU


[T.I]

You be on that bullshit man


[T.I.P]

Yeah man, well you better respect my muh'fuckin hustle


[T.I]

Man you ain't the only one gotta hustle nigga, I told you once man

You heard me


[T.I.P]

You can't tell me shit!, Aight now


[Hook]

R-E-S-P-E-C-T, M-Y, H-U-S-T-L-E

Should respect this hustle, respect this hustle

Won't accept nuttin' else so respect this hustle

I ain't in it for the fame, I ain't in it for the glory

I'm down to die for it, absolutely mandatory

Respect this hustle, respect this hustle

Won't accept nuttin else so respect this hustle - AY!


[Verse 1]

These niggas bitch-made, I'm gettin' paid six ways

Six laid, shit's sprayed, lemonade with blades

Keep your mouth closed, you don't wanna get sprayed

Shoot you up your body, let it sunbathe six days

Kamikaze renegade, nah, he never been afraid

Kept the trap hot enough to fry an egg in the shade

I ball 'til the day I'm lyin' dead in the grave

I leave the Feds behind the wall 'cause I ain't get away

Chopper round the corner and a bushel with a brick of yay

A bust can happen any day, we out here trappin' anyway

Gettin' money's an addiction, damn, what a nigga say?

I got a real bad condition if I ain't gettin' paid

Hand over fist, well, I miss it, gotta get busy

I know you see this car I drive and see the house that I live in

And figure this is enough (what, nigga?), I want way mo'

Nigga, this is Play-Doh, you set your sights way low

Had enough of the game, I don't know whether to stay or go

And different group of lames and suckas e'rywhere which way I go

(But, nigga, know you King, why you always gotta say it fo'?)

'Cause they said I couldn't say it befo'

And I remember all it did was fuck my temper up mo', Doug and J know

I said I wear a crown, not a halo - sorry

Niggas think they seein' me, but they so sorry

They fast, but they ain't no Ferrari {*YOOM!*}


[Hook]


[Verse 2]

Ay, don't you think you been pullin' gats, fussin', cussin' enough?

Round here, braggin' 'bout these niggas you be bustin' enough?

Man, look around, ain't nobody sufferin' but us

You could beat a hundred cases, catch one, and you fucked

(Man, I get probation) Is you crazy? Pull a gun in the club

See how many folks and polices put you down in the club

If we gotta come with a slug, why we come to the club?

How much more of this shit you think we can sweep under the rug?

(Look, we already told them "I Told You So")

But all these niggas speakin' out who wouldn't spoke befo'

Don't take it personal, people wanna be close to folk

What you think the televisions and the posters fo'?

(Yeah, man, I'm claustrophobic though) Well, you need to see a doctor for it

And I ain't jokin', you close, Tip and you 'bout to blow it

Did you forgot about them nights in the cells, was you honest?

(I dunno) When we was havin' talks with God and you promised

If he made a way for you to be large, and you done it

Out the gate, "Urban Legend" went on to do numbers

Sold a mil', made "ATL", "King", first week five hundred

Won the Grammy's (but not the one that I wanted)

What about them eight figure deals and that other new money?

But ask yourself somethin', where the gun you got from me?

Keep it real

Talk about somethin' other than yourself sometime (man)

Did you keep your promise partner? (Ay, just keep it real)


[Hook]


[Numerous ad libs to the end]