Lyrics:
D'Angelo Dansbury is a hustler on the corner
All knowing like a satellite, call it Time Warner
He lost in this world, need a shoulder to lean on
Tryna sell the snow wit his friend named Shawn
Conquerin all enemies wit his mind like Genghis Khan
He was born on the streets so a house is not a home
So he aimin for the Throne not watchin it
Ready to build his empire, the New Rome, turn into the Sean Puffy Combs of Megadomes
He got a group of prostitutes he calls it the Hotline
Money making, extraordinary, he kills with a glock nine
Got a pair of frames on his face, alias West Nine
American Gangster, Blue Magic, Drug Traffiking,
A radical, sadistical, askin moms for spirtuals
Just a rookie in this game now owning it
Insubordination you can bet he not condoning it
Givin police head trauma, they askin who controllin this
Al Capone, Frank Lucas, a criminal's wet dream,
Masked marauders, camouflage in the night, yellin smoke screen
Robbery of a bank is a gangsta's M.O.
Brotherhood over everything, forever the block code
_____________________________
Blood, sweat & tears, D'Angelos prayer
Flaunts his wealth in the face of naysayers
Now he got an ugly fiend on his back
Ready to snap his spine and make it contract
His days as a hustla bout to be over
Mama found him dead, she said I told ya
Another young male lost in a world of violence
Now hold on,..take a moment of silence.
