Letra Forced To Do Dirt de Ice-t original

Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics. Ice-T back in that ass Return of the real Muthafuckas fakin and frontin like they don't know what time it is Niggas on the streets ain't really got a muthafuckin choice Muthafucka (So niggas is forced to do dirt)--> Prodigy Born hustler I only run with real niggas who wear gold and jewels I take no shorts cause I been in it for the long one, the strong one Diamond rings, strapped with tools Gotta tell the truth, yo, half my niggas is on the run Street giant defiant to the laws That the white man made, nigga That's why we play, nigga A/k/a the street hustler from the Westside Too damn fly, too much finesse for the hoo ride I rather take a mark off smooth Cause the skilll of a hustler is to stick and move And make you say: 'Damn, what's his name? Got to give a nigga props cause the kid got game' Mad game, fool, I base my hustle not on strength But think, you say 'the liqor store', I say 'brinks' Cause my mind's on the massive roll of the dice The magnitude of my game's insane, precise So now you're mad cause I got money and you don't The hustlers win, the busters won't What can I say, you can't come out and play You'll get broke with the quickness With the real ones, dig this I don't gamble, I cheat when it's on Two g's on the table, two in my palm And if I spill up, I pull the nickel .25 strap Then the place gets flat and then I'm out the back With my niggas and them 4's on thangs And if I really wanna floss I flex my Bentley wings Keepin lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve em Damn, over your head, got a problem But the game's extreme so quit your high beams And increase the light, now can you see me, you might If you ever been to jail or shot, sold rocks I'm talkin 'bout weight down like movin ki's and pounds But every nigga in the hood ain't fly Straight vics and they got money to give Light-skinned or dark, they're 90% marks Then without em tell, me how the hell a hustler lives.. I got no love for a lame I use my strategy from crack to rap, no shame And now instead of cooking some ki's I'm flippin million dollar ??? call em wack MC's But suckers got it twisted, they missed it Wastin they life when yo, they mentally gifted The streets ain't the only fuckin hustle in town You gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way down He makes excuses why his ass ain't pay But a buster is a buster for life That shit's played I hit a 50'000 lick and never did no bid Cash rules everything around me, kid Cause I'm bent on a come-up and my shit stays tight You know I'ma gonna get mine, so I'ma let em get theirs It don't matter cause the real don't care How many fake gangsta rappers will I hear tonight? But I know in the heart what's true Pavet medaillons,