[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

Hustla 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]