Ahhhhh!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Blood and magic dripping from me
True thugs and addicts, I grip an entry
Enter this game with tricks and envy
I forget game to remain an MC
Rooms in this mind that's still empty
Only fufilled through prophecy
You stoppin me
You see I'm tryna catch this plane
You must be throwed nigga, catch your brain
It's fresh, but it is some stress in fame
Got hoes? Ho nigga, respect the game
I talked to cab drivers about the fast lane
And Islam, masters and chakras and beyond
Think about the hustle and somehow I see by
Wrote a letter to the concrete, PS we strong
You was at your hardest when
You didn't even try
Live like a bitch, to bitch you gon' die
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Mercury in retrograde
I'm tryna get niggas in the ghetto paid
While they watch pornos and Escalades
Away from floats and the dope in sex parades
Somebody screamin in my mind
I'm tryna find if it's me
Or voices from the master they
Designed to be free
Same revolt, can't be found on TV
Or radio, it's livin in me
Hey lady, that smoke is bothering me
If I put it in your eye, ashes you would cry
All this rap talk is blowing my high
I just came to chill and build with my guy
I try to walk but I
Stumble off the humble path
This story of a pimp stick
That became a staff you got it
You gotta know where to aim the Mag
Art and opinions are made to clash
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Out of body experience, hard to explain
Like the pyramids and gods, I remain
I know pain, like Kurt Cobain
Or AI playin, hurt the whole game
Digging to the Earth's brain for worst gain
Focused like young blood on his first chain
I used to write shit, to please niggas
Now I write shit, to freeze niggas
Whether iced out or American pie sliced out
I sit in the room with the lights out
Whether diced out
Or with their hair spiked out
I sit alone in the room
With the lights out screaming
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower!
