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[Principal Speaking] Hello everyone (feedback) Whoa...is this thing on? Hello everyone, this is your principal Mr. Schnimlowski Whoa son, that's not called for Okay, and now I'm going to bring you your Valedictorian of Hustler High, Class of .211 Your Valedictorian...Max Minelli! Ladies and Gentlemen Give him a hand as he takes the stage [Max Minelli talking] Whasup? I did this here to pay my respects to where I come from The school I went to The hardest school in America You know what I'm sayin' Yeah. Where niggaz go to learn trades like Rappin', sellin' dope, makin' beats Playin' basketball, cuttin' hair, robbery Shit like that Yeah, It's Hustla High Now check it [Verse One] The hardest school in the heart of the hood Letras de cancionesHustla High, where niggaz ride choppers and wood It's the home of the warriors, jackers, and G's Where the niggaz graduate and get they street degrees And blow on trees at recess Well respected Professers of the Grind teach these niggaz electives And, niggaz think with a criminal head Racin' cops up the block during physical ed Go to jail, you don't fail, but that's detention Unless you get life, permanent suspension They only accept dudes to pay tuition You deal with hoes to take notes on pimpin' Uh, look and listen if you pass it pays Ain't no PTA's, just some hot AK's The only school that turn boys into 'timers Niggaz fail, but I graduated with honors From [Chorus] Where they hold class on the corner And niggaz that pass recieve a thug diploma (At Hustla High) They teach shit that you don't read in textbooks The game, and they breed the best crooks (At Hustla High) I learned rhymin', that's why I flow hard (big) Dope money and rap sheet report cards (At Hustla High) Showed me somethin' new each day .211 was my GPA, Nigga (At Hustla High) [Verse Two] Ba Ba Ba BOOM, I stepped out, repped out, My sets up Learnt to slang that shit that tore the projects up (If you) test us, get rolled on Must be got ya people mixed up, this could get ugly Uh, don't stand too close and don't touch me Momma don't understand and my woman don't trust me So all I had was the streets to make Somethin' shake, got the hook up on some cheaper weight I bled the block Hid from the feds and cops I got shit shakin' like aftershocks Stack my knots, went and split my cash in half Put fifty back in the streets and gave fifty a bath I'm a G 'bout mine, jiggalatin' Oh what, he tryin' to see 'bout mine? Nigga hatin' But that's okay, put up a dub, I got one to match you wit' I'm a certified Hustla High graduate From [Chorus] [Verse Three] Look It's like I hustle for Air Max, you hustle for house slippers Go 'head hate, fuck it, I got paid without niggaz They well-wishers with they fake advice I learned not to make the same mistakes twice Seen niggaz fall, seen niggaz change the game Seen broads catch brains with a few of them thangs Seen baby G's kick doors off the frame Jackin' niggaz for they J's and they piece and chain Mane, niggaz come to learn how to get paid Pick up a neighborhood skill and a gangsta trade And never miss one day, perfect attendence Pickin' fights with fake niggaz to vent they vengeance That's my school, Hustla High stay fly Stay beefin' with niggaz from Busta High Keep slippin' and these boys'll jack you quick Look around and I bet you know a graduate Of Hustla High [Chorus] From Letras Mania