I can be rich and still be in the hood.
The materialism of life has the definition of rich misunderstood.
I have just given myself a choice 
and I have chosen to hustle in my hood.
What I do is legit and keeps me sharp 
and will make me better at what I choose to do.
I can’t work a nine to five at home to survive; 
so I turn to my gift from God to stay alive and thrive.
I’m no pusher, no gangster, or no pimp.
What I do in my hood doesn’t define me…
Some say because I’m not grimey that I’m a whimp, 
but they’re the ones on the corner; whose really getting pimped?
What I do doesn’t have me looking over my shoulder.
I don’t have to worry about being busted just for being a brother.
I don’t even have to say a word in my occupation.
See I’m working a silent hustle with a loud approach.
See my sound speaks for me.
Every sound is a song and I can’t go wrong.
In my hustle I just let fingers get to walking and my horn do the talking.
I’m pulling in over $15 an hour and I don’t even punch a clock.
So I like Rick James says, “I’m rich…”
In my heart…
See I do what I do not for the money…
It’s all for the love over here.
See I’m not alike a gangster, a pusher, or a pimp; 
they’re all trying to get rich or die trying like 50 cent.
They’re not like me I play to live and I live to survive.
In my hustle I don’t have to worry about being on somebody’s turf 
or anybody trying to rival me.
I love my hustle so much that I do what I do anytime and anywhere 
because I’m strong enough to stand alone on my own.
I don’t push no rocks, dime sacks, kilos of coke, dope or heron; 
see I push sounds that other stuff is left alone by me.
The hustle I speak of that make me rich everyday…
My hustle is my life and my life…
Is my saxophone.