Outro (Album Version)

Outro (Album Version) - Baby Bash/Butch Cassidy/Don Cisco/Nino Brown/Russell Lee/Mr. Kee

Written by：N. Perez/R. Atkins/D. Means/G. Flores/R. Bryant

Yeah

Hustler's theme

Worldwide

Come on

All money ain't good money

Stack your chips

Let it flip like some hood money

Cock them rims

Let'em spin on them haters man

And all the players

Worldwide do your thug thang

The hustler's theme

All money ain't good money

Stack your chips

Let it flip like some hood money

Cock them rims

Let'em spin on them haters man

And all the players

Worldwide do your thug thang

I take a slow beat

And spit a hard rap

Pobre I aingt retarded you know we off that off that

From the west my brother to the east

Back down

To the diggy dirty for sherzy

What the feezy

I take a slow beat

And spit a hard rap

Pobre I aingt retarded you know we off that

Off that

From the west my brother to the east

Back down

To the diggy dirty for sherzy

What the feezy

Now I walk around like I got a rock in my sock

When it's just a limb from this money right in my pocket

Pimp

I know you smell it 'cause it's getting you naucious

'Cause the sh*t I'm laying on this track is

Brown as the Foxy's

I'm the done dealer

Don Dadda fresh out of Guatemala

Some say bash you the sh*t

In Spanish I'm the dada

It's the million dollar Mexi the mack

God he done bless me

Girls wanna caress me like I'm Elvis Presley

It don't stop

Straight to the top till the game lock

You know I gotta rep for my hood and my block

Stacking up my bread make me stand a little taller

Collecting my winnings without punching no glocks

The game's getting hard so I gotta get smarter

Watching out for cops 'cause my homies got knocked

Drought seas in our cheer but my pocket's ain't starving

That's why I stay charging you know we won't stop

This is for my heavy weighters

Pulling strings like elevators

Where my ops in full swing I'll be standing on top of skyscrapers

Seventy stories or more

Eventually the publicall

Know my story for show

Make a household

Name out of Don Cisco

Go from a hustler

Born and grind trying to find some dough

To the billion dollar

Boy club

Mexicali thug style

I got

Money to get back I'm fresh off the drug drought

FED's couldn't stop me head shots didn't pop me

Wouldn't lock never got me I'm the same player still cocky

Bossed out

Hopping out of the drought

Looking flossed out everything chopped even the crop

Believe I'm the don listen everything I'm breathing on

Represent west side till the rider in me's dead and gone

Me and bash do things

Butch Cassidy sing

Let 'em know it's all know the cash prestine

Come on

Ain't nobody gonna stop me now

I'm gonna do everything I can

And ain't nobody gonna stop my flow

You gonna hear me from coast to coast

But somebody's gonna make me mad

And I'm a take everything they have

So put it all in the past

And do it so quick so fast

All money ain't good money

Stack your chips

Let it flip like some hood money

Cock them rims

Let 'em spin on them haters man

And all the players

Worldwide do your thug thang

The hustler's theme

All money ain't good money

Stack your chips

Let it flip like some hood money

Cock them rims

Let 'em spin on them haters man

And all the players

Worldwide do your thug thang

Homeboy I got the grid locked

That good yatch gone breezes

And they serve rock

Some motherf**kers can't caught blocks

Trey hop

Roley bezel for you got swapped

You like spider monkey Nino Brown's sasquatch

Them little haters they be tickling me

Brush 'em off like the dust on my Stacy homie

Once again it's that motherf**king Mexican with attitude

Paid my dues

Steady grinding through the avenues

Dogder blue homie

The city that I represent

Los Scandulous city where my homies did

F**k a fed

Keep 'em Presidential stacked up

Hear what I said little soldiers getting taxed up

Back the f**k up move biotch

Get out the way

You know the set holmes

And my

A stomping

Walking in my big brown boots

Flossing

Stanking eagle that's my roots motherf**ker

It don't stop

Straight to the top till the game lock

You know I gotta rep for my hood and my block

Stacking up my bread make me stand a little taller

Collecting my winnings without punching no glocks

The game's getting hard so I gotta get smarter

Watching out for cops 'cause my homies got knocked

Drought seas in our cheer but my pocket's ain't starving

That's why I stay charging

You know we won't stop

Now put your money where your mouth is anybody who doubt this

Wherever you see the westside that's probably where the south is

United like a gang truce khakis pants and house shoes

But out in the Yay it's throwbacks beanies and bulletproof

Spinners in their mouthpiece heat up and the old school

Funk jump no questions asked ride like we supposed to

Up in my city see the bridge and the fall

Know where the place on earth to be than

Where this real turn off

I'm smashing off a side show but money must come first

This ain't no overnight choice

I'm been a hustler since birth

They call me Mr. Kee the Latin boss

Latin king Latin don

Spitting like the Latin play trying to put his Latins on

And they say money is the root of all evil

But there ain't nothing in this world

To make me cross up my people

I swear to god I'll be a soldier till I'm six in the dirt

My Henny bottle in my casket and a fist full of words

The hustler's theme

It don't stop

Straight to the top til the game lock

You know I gotta rep for my hood and my block

Stacking up my bread make me stand a little taller

Collecting my winnings without punching no glocks

The game's getting hard so I gotta get smarter

Watching out for cops 'cause my homies got knocked

Drought seas in our cheer but my pocket's ain't starving

That's why I stay charging

You know we won't stop