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hahahahaha
that nigga Master P back in the house for the 9-5 shot well take a step into this madness that we call the dope game Richmond, California where us youngstas slang that cocaine and we be hoppin it up and choppin it up and rockin it up to tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds to make our profits bro roll through the town talking shit, get your wig split especially when fucking with another niggas divendends I mean them George Washington, them Lincoln, Hamilton, Jefferson, Grant, Ben Franklins find your ass in the trunk with your motherfuck corpse stankin, haha the ghetto's trying to kill me and if you live to see 95 most of ya'll fools can feel me come take a ride in my 6-4 I'm not Dr. Dre but Richmond, California's death row you got niggas packin heat and fiends on every corner trying to make them ends meet and the game get thicker when you think its all good down bows another nigga to the grave 6 feet deep I've never seen a man cry but I'm not Scarface G but I've seen alot of niggas die Richmond, California the town of the homicide got me caught up in a shuffle sellin crack to my people, just an everyday hustle I'm too deep to quit cause the game giva a young nigga like me profits dead presidents still trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents dead presidents still trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents blood shot red eyes off that dank gettin toasted khakis wear up creased motherfuckin shirt half way open and on my stomach spells T-R-U that's my click motherfucker, in other words that's my crew that jumped out this game of crack to get into this game of rap, to put us on the map and we aint takin no shorts independent worlwide and us niggas hella roll gettin paid like the bank, cook it up like crank distribute it to the world like some motherfucking dank but there's always some sucka ass busta playa hatin mother fucker runnin up talking bout you all that nigga you can't rap nigga, insane fool on crack I get more bitches than you, fools cock 22 I cock A-K's make niggas run for they duece and them blue signs is thicker cause when you think it's all over, I be the bounty picker wiping niggas up like soap, niggas can never go when you fools was fadin, I was sendin niggas to death row committin homicides and drive-bys livin with ????? but still slanging that fuckin pie and got more bitches than you so what the fuck you runnin on my set talking that hoe shit fool and No Limit only means the beginning cause when the other niggas is fading we just beginning got more juice than ojay got more four than fourplay got more game than M.J. and like Cube say today will be a good day 25 G's for a key hook it up and meet King George, 23rd street straight up A-1 sola, no yola, hella folda ain't no motherfuckin soda, cook it up like grenola and we bout to chop the top off this motherfuckin fire bird, ??????? oh, and them hoes is the side show and bustas gettin beat down niggas ain't from the town, hoes gettin clowned and we sicker than sickery tricker than trickery catch you slippin bitch than you history cuase I got a bunch of niggas that shoot it up for with me I got a bunch of killas watchin out for P and the game get deep how can you stop when these niggas out to get your green you gotta watch your ass and if you rollin on them thangs nigga, you better watch real fast and watch close to your enemy cause it might be the same nigga sittin right next to you G and the game gets sad 6 feet deep might be lying your dog ass trying to get that cash, trying to move fast but don't tell a nigga where your stash you know what I'm saying if ya'll in the game to all my niggas out their in the game ya'll know how it go, watch your motherfucking ass stack more money than you can and get out quick, if you can (chorus plays as P talks) yea, I got to say whats up to all my niggas out their in the Rich know what I'm sayin all my niggas out there in Oakland, Frisco and all them hustlas thats rollin with me the TRU click, King George, C-Murder, Calli-G, Silkk, Big Ed and ya'll know the Ice Cream Man is outtie 5,000 got to say what up to K-Lou for whippin this ol' dope ass shit |
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yo kid man, stop the music
rollin through my, rollin through my hood this what I see when I'm rollin through my hood 2 to the 3 to the 4 the 5 the 6 and everybody in the ghetto trying to sew this bitch cause she's a dope fiend, she need emphetamine but I'm the only motherfucker with the candy cream now the spots hot, here come the cops the ??????????, it's time to close up shop time to move on, brothas on there cellular phones talkin to them hoochies, I mean them ding dongs cause in the ghetto everbody got nicknames like Master p, Lil Roy, and Big Man eyes red, dank to the head I'm not Snoop Dogg but I feel like Lil Half Dead Henace with a dab of that gin and juice Gatorade, but it gotta be 80 proof so we can remenisce to all the niggas missed and when I said the ghetto's trying to kill me, feel this cause in my hood, it's rest in peace shirt and every nigga in they momma done did dirt or formed a gang, or even ganged banged or slang dope, motherfucker it's the same thang cause where I'm from you got to watch your back cause every nigga in the town got a gat and these hoes, you can't love em even though a motherfucker wanta kiss and rub em watch your back, cause gats go rat-tat but mind your own motherfucker and it's like that rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood rollin through the cuts dippin down the alleys of killa Cali Big Ed got that top drop cause it's not cloudy so I roll on, tank-top with my swoll on pullin in sun rays that be peepin through the ozone I like to chill out, hang out cause I'm cool, you know Big Ed is in the mix with the fix fool, I seen niggas shakin ivory, hoes shakin asses but everybody head turn when the coup passes Who ride, I ride with my 9 hoe I creep as I crept cause I gotta keep that low pro rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood this nigga, I am one quick to use that A-K gun on a mark motherfucker who wanta pick a bone 2 to the dome will do your ass home huh, ain't no love in my motherfucking hood lookin where I'm at, ain't shit turning all good we need cash cause it's all about the fucking rent we get the dice and start rollin on the pavement that's how it is on the first of every month sippin gin, and toking off of blunts gettin higher than the sky, don't ask why young G's from the hood trying to get by rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood when I'm rollin through my hood I see alot of factors, alot of actors but since the money's low, I see alot of jackers but where I stay at, it be the east to the bay but what do I be dippin, it be a 6 to a tre and what do I be strappin, it be a ace to a K but I don't love them hoes, that's why I never ever play in the 9-4, I use to sell dope and holla at the bitch but it's 9-5 so it's all about me trying to get a grip 14 niggas in a cut tryin to get at the butt but it aint all good cause a nigga like set trippin up in my neighborhood ???? through the cut, I see task hoppin off of the tree it's all about mine, so it's all about me tryin to get a fee can't trust none of these hoes, I leave them hoes at the bus cause it's one motherfucking thing in this world that you can't trust it be a bitch, cause they a snitch, they get you caught up in this game, heavy locked up, tore up from the floor up I seen this bitches, these niggas these niggas all the same it's a scandel thang, and Silkk won't be caught up in this ghetto game rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood I hit the play twice, and then I'm off to a get away where I got my shit hid away in the cut A personal yaht, I snatch a few sacks about to hit the track to come up on some scraps hit the block sideways, perking, trippin swervin, I'm servin the shit that I made cause it's tight all night long nigga's hustle for paper 24-7 nigga's stay on the caper gotta get them riches, and you gotta have game yo gotta keep lie-lo with them hollow you see it's still going down motherfuckers gettin bucked in the town the silent sound never go away, every other day it's another nigga in the game straight passed away and as well as we all know it's a little bitty city where motherfuckers bound to get shitty now when I roll through my spot i see niggas like broke, with them glocks, 17 shots nigga hot nigga, pop you nigga, and I just bought a 4-5 in the hood (in the hood, in the hood) like that, check it out fool it's a ghetto thang, ghetto thang, ghetto thang and if you ain't from the ghetto you wouldn't understand rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood rollin through my hood, rollin through my hood that is what i see when I'm rollin through my hood rollin through my hood |
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hahahaha
we got a bag full of bullets in this bitch with no name on them you know what I'm saying when you been hit by the bitch you know it was ment for your punk ass my nigga Ski whats up my nigga C whats up my nigga P whats up I'm read to tear shit up coming straight from the land of the O-A-K and now listen to Ral, ruler of the bay no matter where you at, be it rain or snow on a motel floor with a front row hoe partna pull out, get up, I want your undevided forget the nut, I got the shit to ride with let me tell you bout this little fool I know he was swift and fast, always on the go anybody was his target, just to let you know to make it blunt, yo this nut was bisexual he was all about peace, nothin more or less always headed for your head, to avoid the vest he was hollow at the tip, with a metal frame get in his way, you're shot on the spot cause he has no name CHORUS: 4x hollow tips in ya, bang! so duck when you hear that rat-tat-tat cause bullets got no name cover your nuts nigga, what the fuck is up nigga you got your name in my mouth I got to wash it with the millimeter 95 motherfuckers won't be playing bodies will be laying cuase motherfuckers keep on playa hating run up and get the four-four open his chest with the full metal jacket and put that nigga to rest I ain't gonna fuck around and play the silly shit my bullets have no name so your partners better scatter bitch so motherfucker now you know I'm from the O got niggas from the mobb and some niggas that's doing death row so think again if you think that you can handle get caught up in a motherfuckin 187 gangsta scandle kill at rando, here's my motherfuckin anthem nigga shoot to kill, cause if you don't, that other nigga will I check my steel cause I feel the ghetto's trying to kill me Master P warned a nigga so now I gots the Uzi motherfuckers wanta do me but run up and get some slugs from a nigga you thought was your homie ain't no love in this town huh so you gonna love the way these slugs travel around huh yea, who's the first to bust a cap I thought you knew nigga I'm leavin bodies on the ground cold and blue nigga you fuck around I'm puttin your ass in the house of pain keep your partnas out this shit this bullet has no name CHORUS 4x about yay short, about yay tall about so big, but had the ball's to kill all ya'll I represent, the town called the Rich where niggas don't give a fuck about you or your bitch HK's pop, a young nigga drop 2 hours later, here come the fuckin cops cause ain't no love in this dope game young niggas in my hood losing their life slanging this cocaine so when you hear that fuckin rata-tat-tat-tat you better duck or get your motherfuckin cabbage patch or lose your shoe, or watch your mama sing the blues you be the next motherfucker on the 10 O'clock news took out the game, I run the game of life cause in the ghetto, niggas out to get stripes smoke that crank, fermalgahide, and dank heroine and crack, and out to do ?????? and the music shit don't change cuase rappers go to jail or even kill like the dope game so what's the deal nigga, how you feel nigga Infa Red and No Limit Records I mean some real niggas done hooked up, out to make some bucks off the record, on the record Master P can back it up E-40 said 1 Luv but it's the same shit every state, every city, every club and every fucking concert there's either some nigga, some bitch with a bloody red shirt or under the fuckin white sheet this shit won't change cause it'll happen again fuckin next week and these bullets aint gots no names and these niggas in my hood wanta live like John Wayne you got your gat, we got our gats and we can end this shit in some rata-tat-tat-tata |
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It's 1995, alot of brothers done died
Alot sisters, them mothers, them fathers And aunties, and grandma's done left to cry Now he nothing but a memory, used to be a friend of me Said he'd never die, but now he's six feet deep With a tombstone, oh my god my brother's gone And I don't even even think I can go on Cause it hurts To lose someone you love to this madness And killing, murder, shoot-em-up, this game of drugs Doctors pumped his chest, my daddy said let him rest A team rolled up and put him to his final test Hands got cold, God rest his soul He walked out his body to another another episode Then the window opened Then they put him in the final frontier You know what happened in the end Chorus: I wish I could've seen him before he died (talked to him) But when they gone, that's when we realized I wish I could've seen him before he died (talked to him) But when they gone, that's when we realized Front, back, side-to-side But who will be the next victim to roll in that black ride Front, back, side-to-side It might be you The next victim to ride in that black ride Just another homicide for the West County Times Fools gettin' took out the game at the at the drop of a dime The game's gettin' deep, I toss in my sleep But would a young young live to see 2-3 Killin' don't fase, fools think i'm crazy Muslims on every corner, handin' out black daisies Name scratched off the wall, ain't no final call Used to slang bean pies, now it's 'bout that white ball Only fifteen, already got fiends And workin' the ghetto like Jack Stalk could work some beans Livin' off a high, gold ones on his ride Bitches on his side, but only livin' to retire Ain't that a shame, took him out the game Same fool he used to roll with, yelled out his name Popped in his chest, didn't wear his vest Some day his kid took his first step, he took his last breath Chorus Who's under the white sheet Somebody bring the yellow tape The ghetto took him under, today will be a sad day Ain't no time to cry, no time to shed no tears You know the way he died, the same way he lived Who was his killer, found him dead on his knees Same room with his wife, and his kid left to grieve Hopin' that this is a nightmare, one pop and he's outta there God rest his soul, left his kid in a wheelchair Scared for his life, his daddy took the ghetto flight And at the funeral, momma said boy you know it's gonna be alright But know he's gone, ain't nobody to run his home Another kingpin, stripped from the ghetto throne Lost at the game of life, ain't no time to think twice The same fool he trusted, and I sleeps with his wife Tagged his toe, strapped him in the ziplock Another another flip-flopped, pop was slangin' that crack rock Now he's gone, Amazing Grace his last song Six ballers carried him out the church, took take his his home 4 limos, 3 Cutlass, 2 El Doggs, a cop and the hearse Everybody had they lights on And when the straps pops to lower him down in the grave See it was sad the way his his family misbehaved His family cryin', but everybody gots to die But you won't feel what they feel 'Till somebody in your family dies Chorus |
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Master P:
'73 Caddie with the top dropped Gold thangs as he spined up out the parking lot Who he was? I couldn't see But I knew one day that would be me Had more game than the average bro' And he was smooth when he was talkin' to the ladies though Straight killa, I mean for real 'a He kept his cash in the top of his brilla I mean his dime was tilt to the side And when he walked on the turf it was swowl, I mean smooth Striaght fool, got more bitches than Payless got shoes (Damn) I guess I got my game from an OG It's the 90's and everybody know P Independent but can't be stopped But how many tapes will it take for us to pop, to the top Cause I'm TRU to this No Limit, my click we ain't new to this King George, Young Silkk, and Cali G Big Ed, C-Murder, and Master P Gettin' paid in the rap game Some real players, from the streets man (From the streets man) Just a player with some game man Gotta keep your game tight if ya wanna make it man Simply Dre': If it don't make dollars, don't make sense I'm just a playa with some game trying to get ends If it don't make dollars don't make sense I'm just a playa with some game trying to get ends Master P: Tryin' to get it Got to get it Got to have it Might steal it Might take it Got to have it Got to grab it Let me have it Simply Dre': I'm just a playa with some game, oh? Master P (Silkk the Shocker): A G to the heart out to get a grip (But Silkk has got your back in case y'all just might slip) Come one come all, that's how we ball (So hop in your ride and I'll meet you at the Playa's ball) That's how we roll (Easy come, easy go) Don't have your pass (Then y'all won't be gettin' in the door) See it's a playa's thing (And it's a G thing) And we gon' party all night, and drink champagne (Don't need no carriage) Straight savage (You know us playas in the bay, you know we livin' lavish) Parlayin', Not playin', East Bay hustlers getting' paid for what we sayin' Were movin' young flakes up to the street Across the world, ship for SMG Down South, to the East Coast, from the West Coast to rich and million people OG's puttin' in work Like some brand new panties under Halle Barry's mini-skirt Still hoo-ride, with that gangsta beat Short Spice got theirs I want mines G Still got love for my folks Lil' Ric, E-A-Ski, and Sonya C Big Worm, Young Ric, B-Boy, Mac Spoon, my whole click OG's gotta come fat Put the town on the map The whole Richmond got my back Just some playa with some game man Gotta keep your game tight if ya wanna make it man Simply Dre': If it don't make dollars don't make sense I'm just a playa in the game tryin' to get ends If it don't make dollars don't make sense I'm just a playa in the game tryin' to get ends Master P: Got to get it Got to have it Might steal it Got to take Got to grab it Cause you know I've got to have it Simply Dre': He's just a playa with some game Talkin' 'bout Master P Master P: A real playa gone, put to rest KV ain't too cool to wear a vest Playa haters, caught 'em on the back street Before he left me, this is what he said G King George: Check this out youngster The game is only thick as you want it to be Playas don't die, we multiply There's a million playas around the world ??? only playa haters fall off You see what I'm sayin'? (I see what ya sayin' man) Simply Dre': You better listen Master P: Draped in gold (Gold) Rollin' fo's (Fo's) Caught light song as we roll to his funeral (To his funeral) It's a sad day, but we alright (Alright) Lexus coupe, Benz's, Roll's tight Candy paint with the gold thang shinin' Hands out the window, I'm blinded by diamonds Like they say, all good things to an end Cause in the game you either die or go to the pen But when a playa die, he's to the Playa Ball (To the Playa's Ball) A big party in the sky waiting for us all So at the funeral, we don't cry Just talk to the younger players and hope that they realize Simply Dre': Ya gotta keep your game tight, if ya wanna be a playa If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense (No, no) If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense (No, no) And ya heard it from a playa with some game (Uh-huh) I'm just a playa with some game |
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[Master P]
H to the motherfuckin' K A Richmond ass nigga residin' in the Bay Still slangin' cola out the motherfuckin' palm trees TRU to the game and gone off that Dank weed Shoot a nigga up in the middle of the sunset And when you ride through the town you better wear your vest Real East Bay gangsta, the P is not a prankster Put the nina to your a jaw and watch a nigga gank ya See it's a turf thing, fools like to gangbang Russian roullete, put the Glock to your dome man And if a fool live he have shit in his pants Just seen the devil, taught you how to dirty dance Merri D whip the beat up just like some dope I put the lyrics in the chamber and watch that ass get smoked [Chorus] 99 ways to die, survival of the fittest Only one way to stay alive 99 ways to die, survival of the fittest Only one way to stay alive 99 ways to die, survival of the fittest Only one way to stay alive [Master P] Head for the 94, P got that deuce deuce Homies better run, gon' like psycho ready to bust a few 23rd street, I'm posted in the cut Southside of the Rich, TRU don't give a fuck Caught a fool slippin', tryin' to slang them Coca leaves Mark's gettin' smoked in my hood like some Dank weed My homie little Rich got the shotgun ready to bust a cap Duct tape around your mouth motherfucker did you ??? Ain't nobody trippin', caught that ass slippin' Dumpin' bullets in your back like young Scottie Pippen Niggas in the truck, with automatics 5 g's ready to roll up on your ass from some static Fry that ass like Wendy's, where they fry fuckin' burgers Well done drippin' in blood cause that's the way I serve ya No lettuce or tomato, just straight lead When people straight clip three bullets to your head [Chorus] [Master P] Blood drippin' from my nose, I'm in a cold sweat I done smoked this fool, can't sleep I need a cigarette O.G. but it's time for me to put in work I mean cock the trigger, time to do my own dirt King guard the window, I toss and turn in my sleep Silkk hand on the pump, I hear the fuckin' police It's my time to come, i'm going out like Kadafi Jumped out the window ain't nobody gonna stop me Still have fuckin' blood on my hands from the torture ??? with the motherfucker that I thought ya Cause it's slaughter in the dope game Have you ever held the hands of a dead man It's serious G , I can't sleep though And I'm gone on that motherfuckin' Indo You gotta stay strapped Ain't no time to blank Niggas in my hood left dead with they corpses' stank Black-on-black crimes it's all about the dividends The government fed dope to my hood to make us kill again Fake D.A., feds on my fuckin' case Just like the ??? man, fuck the yellow tape I'm out on 50 g's and that's real And the sucka that snitched on the P, got his cap peeled [Chorus] |
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[Master P]
Hoe Games, Hoe Games Suckers with no game hate to see a young g stack a mil man [Master P] It could be your best friend your row dawg, your homies, your partners niggaz that talk shit if the shoe fits I got ya buster you know I cant trust ya if you was a bitch you know I cant trust ya suckers tried to play the P like a fuckin clucker when im the dopeman go ask your brother ask st. charles hot to be bald suckers wanna talk shit like little kids in the school halls gold thangs rollin sittin on lorenzo bitches didnt wanna ride when the P was in the pinto now I got a Lexus, took a trip to Texas the P done went big time and fools wanna wreck this its all legit, No Limit makes the hits but suckers wanna talk shit why, because im rich [Chorus] Players hate to see a player make a mil man if you ask me that aint nothin but some hoe games Hoe Games, Hoe Games Suckers with no game hate to see a young g stack a mil man [Silkk] niggaz play hoe and get fucked if hoes wanna play niggaz hoes will get fucked up fool kinda mad cause I puts in work I cock my chop jump out my drop and wipe off that smirk now niggaz wanna play games bitch im quick to get em up fuck rap and fame still that g silkk riding on them thangs roll up a swish park my shit then hang nigga im always strapped, hoe I never skinny dip and for them hoes a trizzo and for the niggaz a hollowtip hate to see me clock a grip hate to see me get rich hate to see me pull a hoe hate to see me pull this bitch player haters need to keep them games in the arcade if I put a quarter abd a slug up in your ass you gon get played A g to a g I mean a g to a hoe and you can come up to me in the 94' and get some more game and throw away the hoe shit and leave them hoe games to a hoe bitch [Chorus] [King George] niggaz talk shit behind my back like hoes smile in my face up frony mout clothes now its time to stop ya, here for the drappers 911 only hoes got ya prepare for the battle, you get streched out I wont let it rest til its wire in your mouth you know who you are I wont say no names in vain cease with hoe games [Chorus] [C-Murder] now im trying to go legit and stick with this rap shit i see more and more niggaz get they wig plit i got cash but i aint got no fucking pity nad smoke your ass and move to another city brown nose bitches stay the fuck out my face how you wanna take, take your ass to the record store jealous motherfuckers running they mouth getting they nuts off i cant wait to catch your ass with my sawdoff take this advice before you talk behind my back cause playing hoe games might get your cranium cracked [Chorus] |
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[Master P]
G ride, homicide, hoo ride 4 deep Thats how we late night creep See in Cali' fools be gettin' their serve on And at the side shows cars got it going on With that candy paint plus that ??? So many woofers in the trunk sound like an army tank I'm from that Richmond 23rd street army So fools can't harm me, gats cocked incase they run up on me See I'm deep, TRU is how I creep I don't bang cause that went out in '93 Still locin, blunted and smokin' Gator Rade and Thunderbird, a pocket full of Trojans For them hoochies, that wanna smooch me End up in Motel 6 in some booty Boots knockin', panties be droppin' Gat under the bed incase the playa hatas come and pop me Got that glock, 17 shots, it's all good I tell a hoochie don't stop Ass bangin', nuts still hangin', moble phone ringin' Ain't stoppin' 'till the fat lady starts singin' and hollerin' And moanin'i'm humpin' Check my watch god damn it's 6 in the mornin' Should I stay, ain't got no time to play Put my ??? by my t-shirt Then I break, to the door My partner's three deep in a six-four Chorus: repeat 2X G ride, homicide, hoo ride 4 deep That's how we late night creep [Master P] Well it's the weekend and everybody chillin' at the giggety lake Hoes in daisy dukes so tight, it'll make your nuts break Polk-a-dot panties, gold thangs, dampies So many stars out here I feel like I'm at the Grammys Niggas blowin', bitches out hoein' Weaves so tight ain't nobody else knowin' Is it real, if it's not just chill Cause talkin' shit to a hoe in Cali' can get your god damn cap peeled Ballers roll low, fools out tellin' jokes Hittin' like Tyson on the mother fuckin' Spliff smoke Tangueray mixed with that orange juice and lemon squeeze Straight vodka and mother fuckin 80 leaves I mean high, I'm higher than a giggety bird Show my ass for the hood make them gold thangs hit the curb 5-0 on my trizail, I had to post bizail 100 g's to get me out of jail, I'm with the quickness All because a big nigga bought a ki' of dope Watch a young nigga flip this Straight independant, ain't nobody lendin' Underground King Pin, title dependant Master P or should I say Al Capone No Limit Records in the house got it goin' on Ain't no love, I thought I told ya Us TRU niggas, straight soldiers King ready to fight a bitch like a Pit Bull And Big Ed got that 9 trigger ready to pull And Silkk will put your teeth in the dirt fool And C-Murder don't give a fuck about a nigga dude And Cali-G is ready to do a fuckin' OG call Cause when you fuckin' with us one You fuckin' with us all That's how we do it on the Westcoast Westcoast Badd Boyz some more No Limit dope Chorus [Master P] Now we creepin' from the Westcoast of California To Washington, Texas, Louisiana, Arizona, Utah, Flordia, Atlanta, Kansas, Nebraska, New York, Kentucky, Alabama, Detroit Arkansas, North Carolina, South Carolina [Silkk] Man let me check this shit out Let me see what this all about 1-9-0-0-Master-P [Master P] Yo, what's up this is your nigga Master P Sorry I'm unavailiable to come to the phone right now I'm either out on the fuckin' road doin' shows Kickin' it with bitches Could be your bitch if you a real G Just take it to the law, you could be a playa hater We can hold court in the streets But if you my nigga little Rich Yeah nigga if you still got them mountings for 350 Hold me 7 of 'em nigga I'll be back tomorrow, and if its that bitch Sheryl Yeah I told them niggas you sucked my dick hoe You know how that go, every dog got they day Bitch you had 3 or 4 though No Limit Records, supplyin' the world with that dope gangsta ass shit Y'all know as usual, comin' back with a bomb on y'all ass Dope ass EP P 99 Ways To Die Everybody got it You must have it cause you wouldn't be listenin' to this shit Master P bout it be, audi five thousand 'Bout to smoke this ol' Spliff on y'all dog ass Watch this, when the weed stop Then leave a mother |
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It's 1995, alot of brothers done died
Alot sisters, them mothers, them fathers And aunties, and grandma's done left to cry Now he nothing but a memory, used to be a friend of me Said he'd never die, but now he's six feet deep With a tombstone, oh my god my brother's gone And I don't even even think I can go on Cause it hurts To lose someone you love to this madness And killing, murder, shoot-em-up, this game of drugs Doctors pumped his chest, my daddy said let him rest A team rolled up and put him to his final test Hands got cold, God rest his soul He walked out his body to another another episode Then the window opened Then they put him in the final frontier You know what happened in the end Chorus: I wish I could've seen him before he died (talked to him) But when they gone, that's when we realized I wish I could've seen him before he died (talked to him) But when they gone, that's when we realized Front, back, side-to-side But who will be the next victim to roll in that black ride Front, back, side-to-side It might be you The next victim to ride in that black ride Just another homicide for the West County Times Fools gettin' took out the game at the at the drop of a dime The game's gettin' deep, I toss in my sleep But would a young young live to see 2-3 Killin' don't fase, fools think i'm crazy Muslims on every corner, handin' out black daisies Name scratched off the wall, ain't no final call Used to slang bean pies, now it's 'bout that white ball Only fifteen, already got fiends And workin' the ghetto like Jack Stalk could work some beans Livin' off a high, gold ones on his ride Bitches on his side, but only livin' to retire Ain't that a shame, took him out the game Same fool he used to roll with, yelled out his name Popped in his chest, didn't wear his vest Some day his kid took his first step, he took his last breath Chorus Who's under the white sheet Somebody bring the yellow tape The ghetto took him under, today will be a sad day Ain't no time to cry, no time to shed no tears You know the way he died, the same way he lived Who was his killer, found him dead on his knees Same room with his wife, and his kid left to grieve Hopin' that this is a nightmare, one pop and he's outta there God rest his soul, left his kid in a wheelchair Scared for his life, his daddy took the ghetto flight And at the funeral, momma said boy you know it's gonna be alright But know he's gone, ain't nobody to run his home Another kingpin, stripped from the ghetto throne Lost at the game of life, ain't no time to think twice The same fool he trusted, and I sleeps with his wife Tagged his toe, strapped him in the ziplock Another another flip-flopped, pop was slangin' that crack rock Now he's gone, Amazing Grace his last song Six ballers carried him out the church, took take his his home 4 limos, 3 Cutlass, 2 El Doggs, a cop and the hearse Everybody had they lights on And when the straps pops to lower him down in the grave See it was sad the way his his family misbehaved His family cryin', but everybody gots to die But you won't feel what they feel 'Till somebody in your family dies Chorus |
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