Outro(Album Version) - Baby Bash

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 ** 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