| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 2:50 | 
|
|||
| 2. |
| 5:08 | 
|
|||
|
Before you jump in the game let's get one thing understood
If you sellin' that ice cream you got to make sure it's good Mr. Ice Cream Man. Mr. Ice Cream Man. [4X] Hit the blocks dressed in white with some baggy girbaud's A pocket full of stones, 3 G's & tryin' to lose these hoes & the task comin' sick 'cause it's the first of the month Fiends on my pager like I'm try to take these fools to lunch Goin' crazy in the ghetto try to kill me My little homies lost life, y'all fools feel me I pack a D 'cause I'm paranoid at night time Brother be pullin' jack, I'm in the hood bustin' gangsta rhyme & still gotta watch my back in the hood G Like Spice 1 said those fools livin' like movies Little kids get 'about it I mean my hood is rowdy. I'm try to make a dollar 50 before I'm up & out it. Before you jump in the game le't's get one thing understood If you sellin' that ice cream you got to make sure it's good. Mr. Ice Cream Man. Mr. Ice Cream Man. [4X] Mr. Ice Cream Man or call me Master P I got that 2 for 3 call me if you need some D Me & my little brother Silkk we be ballin' Got this thing sewed up from Texas to New Orleans & cross the West Coast where fools get wicked I'm in the gang hell a D I'm try to score a meal ticket Break fiends on boulders I means Al soda Duckin' the task & try to hide from the rollers & hangin' with TRU soldiers, my TRU click we true to this TRU 2 the G A M E fools we ain't new to this & in the hood I got ice cream cones & if fiends want a lick nothin' for free that gonna cost you 20 bones For y'all ballers that won't wait call on my pager I got half gallon of milk fool I got 31 flavor Mr. I C E M A N is on the scene You better have my fetti if you don't have my ice cream. Mr. Ice Cream Man. Mr. Ice Cream Man. [4X] Before you jump in the game let's get one thing understood If you sellin' that ice cream you got's to make sure it's good. Now let's see who owes me cash I gots to go to grind & gets mine Fools be try to check it, wreck it, but it's about that time See who owes me, pay me now, don't pay me later, cricket alligators Try to scheme off the top, but they be like player haters I got that 2 for 3, 4 for 5 got them rocks But killers I got that 2 for 3, 4 for 5 I'm maxin' glocks You can come & check my grip you can come & check this But I'm on that triple gold 9 thiller lexus Master P in the 500 S E L with a triple beam You scream, I scream, but the fiends screaming for ice cream. Before jump in the game let's get one thing understood If you sellin' that ice cream you got's to make sure it's good. Mr. Ice Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man Mr. Ice Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man Mr. Ice Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man Master P the Ice Cream Man. Y'all fools better recognize I'm the real Ice Cream Man Mr. Ice Cream Man Master P or call me the Ice Cream Man. |
||||||
| 3. |
| 4:08 |
|
|||
|
-Uhhh, niggas than fucked up
-Nigga, its time to roll -Pass me them nigga chasers -Time to do a 187 -Its time for a murder -If you a G nigga, load your shit up Some nigga got some bad ice cream Came short on the gizzo ?? hit the window, gacks out your window I'm goin crazy Niggas can't fase me If you come up short, niggas bout to read daisies This your final call, I mean your final breath And when I hit you with that tech i'm bout to put you to rest I'm crazy, psycho and outie Niggas can't fuck with me the set is fuckin cloudy Lay your ass face down on your stomach You know you dead for fuckin with my money P don't take no shit Everyday all day I'm breakin bread 24/7 Tryin to get paid And lose these hoes in the dope game Cause I be crazy, psycho call me the murder man Hustler, baller put you in the ?? and call 911 in your pager And haul you And when you call back you dead bitch You bust up my Chevy now Mr. who you playin with Its time to face death Last fall, last dash, your last jump I'm a let you live, psyche Chorus: Its time for a 187 I think I see the enemy A 187 I think I see the enemy This will be your last drink Lets make it a Bloody Mary Just did a hoot ride Meaning a homicide Did a drive-by fuckin them from the southside To Richmond, California niggas don't give a fuck But if you come shizzort, you in that black truck Get you nose swollen, I mean your neck broken When we break you off that 44 Face down cause its danger Niggas from the south keep one up in the chamber I mean we Gs Who you be, what set you with Nigga do you know me If you don't than you dead Ain't no love for cockroaches, cause roaches get sprayed And ain't no bitch in my hood cause I'm TRU See my tattoo, TRU cross my stomach Eyes ?? up all night countin drug money But ready to roll with my homies And after the party, once again its on G Chorus: I'm gone off that douja I think I see a roader That ain't gone stop me from takin your head off your shoulder I'm from the projects, we live a eye for eye When you fuck with mine's you gotta die And your name get scratched off the wall bitch There you go, just took a fall trick If them No Limit tanks don't hit Than them gacks start spittin You better run like the running man But if you ain't Schwarzenetger, bitch this your last game That beam at your forehead I don't give a fuck, you can't run from the infrared I when I catch you, you murder Lying on you back, stuck like a turtle Got your head weaving and waddling Crying, you scared to die you slobbin You beggin for you life I'm a give you somethin to make you feel alright Chorus: |
||||||
| 4. |
| 3:17 |
|
|||
|
Light ya joints, lets have a muthaphukkin smokeoff
yall niggas bout ta see more of that country ass muthaphukkin Masta P from New Orleans to Richmond California, that nigga crazy ass, but check this out Cali got that good ass weed, that good ass weed, that good ass weed them niggas in Cali got that good ass weed that¹s why Im on my way to the Northside Im so toke I guess Im gone of that green sticky just ripped a muthaphukkin hole in my brand new dickies from walkin to close to the fuckin barb wire thats when I know I¹ve got 10 dollars on some fire If you can do this muthaphukka lets get a twenty fuck white zig zags I need some brown stickys I mean that swisha go good with that dank niggas be gettin fucked up in my hood like they smokin crank but we not we gettin higha than fire but I won¹t stop smokin dank till I retire I wonder do they have dank up in heaven and if they do I¹ll prolly do a muthaphukkin 211 (Me too) for a bag of that green sticky Up in heaven a nigga runnin round crazy like he done took a bicky I¹m not Dre, but I don¹t want nuttin but chronic this dank keep me comin back like Im hooked on phonics what ever ya want whatever ya need fool I got it well lets go half on a bag of dank whatever ya want whatever ya need fool I got it well lets go half on a bag of dank Lets meet my homie that fool got hella weed he sells like spanish fly makes bitches get on their knees hoes be suckin dick fo that green sticky like this bitch named Michelle and my partner Ricky fo a half a joint that bitch got toasted drama in motel 6 gettin roasted legs all open drawers under the bed she didnt know where she was at (where you at girl) my little potnah was hittin it in her mouth into her throat Hoes be smokin that dank to keep their nerves calm I be smokin on that shit to get my perv on It go good with that gin and juice and squishy sqeek that¹s how we do it every day of the week I don¹t sleep but at night I get the munchies and afta I eat I be back smokin them green crunchies chorus x6 yeah uhhh inhale lets go half on a bag of dank I mean that green sticky and how you do it when you blowin? you inhale |
||||||
| 5. |
| 4:42 |
|
|||
|
(Master P)
Boy, we about to fill they motherfucking head up with this ghetto dope Time to break these hoes off somethin' Got my niggas Bun B., Pimp C, I mean U.G.K Done hooked up with Master P We about to bring this shit across the border Ya heard me, from Texas to New Orleans Hustler, baller, gangsta, cap-pealer Who I be, your neighborhood drug dealer A young nigga thats bout it, I mean these No Limit Soldiers We get rowdy I got something for y'all haters (something for y'all hater) Y'all can't fade us Ghetto cheese and drug deals thats whats made us Now I'm space-aged pimping but not Eightball Don't make me get stupid and leave your fucking blood on the wall Bout' to go physco, and load this rifle I'm from the projects where we all think alike though And killing ain't nothing but a hobby Don't me do a fucking 187 robbery And like some brand new Jordans, you tied up You sound like a chicken so its time to get plucked By a gangsta, keep one up in the chamber Don't make me wear your ass like some 85 Wranglers Now you all screwed up like DJ Skrew Don't have my money, nigga fuck you and your boo Got amphetamines for them dope fiends Where I'm from a little town called New Orleans But blowing up like B-12 Niggas don't give a fuck cause they quick to send your ass to hell The murder capital of the world Where niggas don't give a fuck about you, your boy, or your girl And if you come stunting on them gold thangs I'm a have to break you off somethin' (hook) Break you off somethin' Don't make me break you off somethin' (x3) (Pimp C) Let me set the shit straight, let me lay down the rules If a bitch is talking shit, then that bitch gonna have to snooze Pimp C bitch now what the fuck you said AK hit the wall tore the stuffing out the fucking bed I'm looking at dead, I'm fully auto Tommorow I got court, I ain't gonna go Nigga owe me money, thinking it's funny, bought a 64' I'm bout to pull a kickdoe I need mo money money mo money money Took the keys, took the cheese, and fucked his main hunny, hunny Now the game is escalted, cause ain't no witnesses To go back and tell the Po-Po's all the shit we did I'm looking at rape, I'm looking at kidnap But when them bitches get here you gonna be full of hot caps I'm breaking them bitches off, putting 'em in the trunk Riding around P.A bout-it hostages blowing skunk Cause getting rid of enemies to me ain't really nothin' nothin' Pimp C bitch 14-96'll break you off somethin' hook (Bun B.) We coming down like a sail, in that goddamn rover Just when you thought it was the beginning You bitch, now its over You can call on the Calvary, reinforcements, and your local P-D They getting somewhere if they see me My nigga thats how these G's be we three, me C and Master P Sipping on Gin and Kiwi Fuck popping in your CD, bitch we popping in them clips And now we all up in your grill live in 3-D With drama, disaster, and death when you make me have to blast ya' Y'all has to recognize you fucking with murder masters Who plaster your ass and make your momma call a pastor Dying faster than you thought, now that's your ass bro It's the class of 9 scrilla on the for real'a Direct from the villa of killas, now who thinking they trilla' Watch me fill a wanna be cap pealer with them slugs Probably for jaw jacking and jumping Bitch don't make me break you off somethin' nigga |
||||||
| 6. |
| 3:54 |
|
|||
| 7. |
| 3:42 |
|
|||
|
-This goes out to my best friend
-My partner -The only person I can trust in this world -This for you mom Momma, this is one thing I still can't realize How you been so strong when my brother died You done kept the family together tight Thinkin about how we gone get throght this sorrow night This is crazy, I can't sleep nope Even though i got revenge written across my throat Five kids and you done lost one Never had a daddy, but put it on your oldest son Ain't that a b, leave me to watch the family To make the bills get paid, you got to live scandalous G Cause the ghetto got me pressured Will I die sellin dope, or would I sell a million records Ohh momma won't you feel me Even though Ms. ?? said somebody tried to kill P And you know your boy's sellin dope But all you say is watch yo back Cause you don't want to see me go Chorus: (Repeat 2X) Momma I don't wanna see you cry No more tears Cause I'm deep in the game Sellin much cocaine Momma how you be so strong Even tough the ATF, done kicked down your home And ran right through and got me But you still came to see me And said that you love me And I know that you real though Cause when I got out, you's the first one at the door Knowing that your boy turned into a man But you done tripped cause I still understand That I'm trying to make some money And if I die in this game, I guess that won't be funny But you still on my side cause you a soldier You the only friend I got and ma I told ya One day I'ma change G Even though the ghetto's crazy, think about your baby If I make it out this dope game I know that life won't be the same, momma I gone make a change Chorus: |
||||||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
| 10. |
| 4:54 |
|
|||
| 11. |
| 3:50 |
|
|||
|
Chorus: [Mo B. Dick]
Just another day, sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money Just another day, sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money Verse 1: [Master P] I'm in the southside with ghetto cheese, or should I say ice cream 72 oz's, players I mean 2 ki's For all you niggas that smokes I got my homies with the gats posted by the liquor store Cause we ain't takin no shorts, in the 9 scrilla Say what you want fool I guess I'm a drug dealer From the southside of Richmond, California Where niggas run through with gats all up on ya You better break North or South, before we take you out Ain't no love in this motherfuckin' crackhouse Lay down on the floor bitch break me off Before you meet my little partner Mr.Sawed-off I'm goin crazy, Indonesia Blowin' up the brown sticky nigga bout to please you With this ketchup, watch I'll wet ya Ain't no gettin up cause your in a mess bro Chorus: [Mo B. Dick] Just another day, sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money Just another day, sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money [Verse 2] Drop the top on the Regal, shot a desert eagle candy cane switches thats how us G's roll Hoo-ridin' to the lizzay Seen Tina from the town layed her that's a dizzay The side show was jumpin' (bumpin') Oozin bikershorts and daisy dukes outside pumpin' And niggas from Richmond rollin' hella deep My little homies from Oakland got chased by the police And these hoes wanna kick it I met a bitch from Frisco gave me her number on a traffic ticket And tonight I'ma page her My niggas talkin shit bout these hoes fade ya When your ballin they jealous they hatin' I guess they mad cause a nigga own gold daytons And they bitches started lookin at me Niggas I'm trigger happy, fuck it and my ass nappy Get more hoes than freak show Ask your bitch, nigga she know But ya'll can't fade us Cause No Limit niggas come harder than the Raiders I'll break you off a little left and feel it chump What you see motherfucker is what you saw Cause ain't no stoppin' No Limit TRU and Master P it's only the beginning And we in it to win it like a roitweiler I won't stop fool I already made a million dollars And I'm up and outtie on a comeback Tryin' to get a fuckin' million in big stacks Chorus: [Mo B. Dick] Just another day sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money Just another day sellin' ice cream in the bay and fools trying to get him for his pay But Master P don't play, it's all about money [Mo B. Dick] Just another day sellin' ice cream in the bay It ain't No Limit, It ain't No Limit Just another day sellin' ice cream in the bay It ain't No Limit, It ain't No Limit [Master P talking] Say wassup to all y'all players out there Ice cream is trickin' us In case y'all wondering what ice cream is It's anything that you can make profit off of I mean get paid, scrilla, scratch, paper that's ice cream anything you can make some dizzolars off of ya heard me?, remember that players |
||||||
| 12. |
| 4:09 |
|
|||
|
[Chorus x 4]
Time To Check My Crackhouse, my crackhouse, my crackhouse [Verse 1] The P rat a tat It's time to start checkin' shit I'm the wrong nigga in the projects to be fuckin' with Man get that Mack-11 It's time for some drama Any nigga come up short with the cheese gonna see his momma Gone off that powda and slippin' that 4 I'm bout ta lay it down with this muthafuckin' toy You bitches better break me off my money cuz I'm crazy Girl you ain't got my cash You won't see your baby Put my dope in the baggies I mean the bumble up Dollar bills in my fuckin' pocket tightly crumbled up 50's in my mouth got my goddamn tongue num but when I walk on the set Bitch I'm gonna leave you dumb Break me off my cash I ain't takin' no shorts I'm aimin' that Tek-9 right at your heart Ain't no fuckin' return from the dead I'm ready to kill bitch I'm the wrong nigga in the game to be fuckin' with I'm kickin' doors down Tryna' get my money Leavin' fiends on the ground Face down like dummies You better have the cash or your ass in the body bag Killa murda muthafucka I ain't runnin' from the tads Rat-a-tat-tat is the sound from my gat I told you muthafuckas that you won't be coming back You came up short with the muthafuckin' grits That's why yo ass got caught up in some gangsta shit Call me the black rambo Cuz I don't give a fuck And just like my boy said Yo ass got plucked You shoulda came right with my money You started smokin' That's why I had to break you off some tokens So jump on the bus ride to hell bitch I'm gonna let your know who the fuck you be fuckin' with Tha M-A-STER to the muthafuckin' P And I ain't takin' no shorts with ya'll niggas with my D [Chorus x 4] [Verse 2] Went Into the crackhouse and opened up the safe One nigga at the door lookin' at me hellah fake I played it off like it was fuckin good G That's when I told my man Hit 'em with the oozi! That's it 1-2-times rat a tatta One nigga on the ground lookin' like a eggo plater But I ain't even trippin' Gotta show them I ain't fakin' Cuz if these other niggas get me for some bacon I started counting my dope Everything was cool black Headed to the front Got them fiends walkin' in the back I ain't even trippin' Ain't no time to serve these fiends I got 40 g's and two fuckin' keys headed to the bienz to put the fuckin' cash up Jumped on the freeway nigga fuckin' dashed bro Think I see the rollers behind me through the rear-view But I ain't even trippin' cuz I ran through clear view Stopped at Egg-Zone tried to get some gas That's when I see two robbers on my ass Played it all cold Told B to get that pistol Jumped back in the bienz shoulda seen they head whistle I wen't back to the house and my homie want some flour I ain't Scarface but got the money and the power They call me Nino Brown Or fuckin' Frank Nitty But if you come up short There's gonna be some shit up in my city [chorus x 4] Am I My Brothers Keep (x 6) |
||||||
| 13. |
| 5:09 |
|
|||
| 14. |
| 5:13 |
|
|||
|
Uh, ah, da
(Are you ready for this) Err The Ice Cream Man (Are you ready for this) It's bad like my high (Are you ready for this) ERRR, my No Limit Soldiers, trademark Get em' up ugh, show ya domes, T-R-U We TRU, ugh, ugh Time to go to war, ugh [Master P] I'm posted up on the block, got these killers runnin' you sick of this And chicken nuts, niggas slangin' with cuts Ready to bust on you cluckers On you niggas that sick cause we sicker Niggas slangin' flickers I'm in the projects ballin' with my niggas I'm hustlin' quarters and thirty sacks Niggas ain't fuckin' with dirty sacks I'm hustlin' I got those ball sacks But y'all niggas don't know that I'm the mad killer, murder, lunatic You fuckin' with a nigga that don't give a fuck about you Or your bitch cause I'll go like psycho, ha ha ha Like Michael, load this fuckin' rifle Start blastin' at bitches motherfucker, yeah cause I'm a psycho Out that 3rd ward, Calliope killin' murder Lunatic, haven't you heard of a nigga not playin' with a full deck Break ya neck, hustle on ya check Get cho' get cho' neck broke Fuckin' field cats and chat No Limit nigga, real nigga, who Don't give a fuck when you dead and gone Motherfucker you feel my bucks from my chrome [Hook] UGH! back up off me, feel me ugh Feel it, back up off me, my trademark Ugh, feel it back up off me, ugh [Master P] Gon' pack me with a nigga with no bread Nappy head, put chu' in a grave Don't give a fuck about chu' niggas, piss on ya forehead I'm from that Southside, we kill with that cut rock But niggas they slangin' that hoo rock But niggas they wanna boo dock, that buddha Nigga a quarter, of water But y'all niggas late cause I done took over New Orleans In the Southside to the Westside to the Eastside to the Northside Motherfuckers never realize the young gon' die on the streets I'm killin' murder, the lunatic Never givin' a fuck, I'm tryin' to make bucks Before I leave this truck Got these killers watchin' me Niggas not pockin' me V got that tech nine and Man got that uzi Big Boz come with rah rah, niggas with sah sah KR hooked up the track so what the fuck y'all didn't realize We back to takin' the battle, scattle not rattle Get my tic tac and make ya motherfuckin' head rattle Like an ostrich, nigga you want some sausage Meet me in the French Quarter I'm kickin' it with them 3rd ward hustlers And they bout it, niggas we rowdy Never givin' a fuck, we started this bout it, bout it Now why y'all sayin' y'all bout it bout it Y'all scared of me, yeah y'all scared of me Bitch talkin' shit, you and ya bitch I ain't afraid of ya I'm hustlin' got them ballers, niggas we smokin' them quarters Fiends be dippin' that water but we hustlin' like it ain't no tomorrow [Hook] [Master P] Niggas comin' wicked, fools I'm gon' kick it Be whippin' niggas ass like I'm cookin' greasy chicken I'll pop off batter but niggas they wanna scatter Niggas they talkin' shit, I be runnin' with them 17 round automatics Up the trees, watch them niggas freeze Don't give a fuck, take off my shirt nigga No Limit on my back, back But niggas they pullin' that sack, sack TRU against my stomach motherfucker how y'all gonna fade that The real fuckin' click, ain't no love for y'all dubs Niggas think we slangin' dubs Nigga we slangin' tapes to you niggas across the world Niggas that squirrel, I got that girl My lil' partner got boy, got the whirl But I don't give a fuck cause I be sick like Suzy Take these 32 round clips from my automatic uzi Run and duck nigga you fried Ain't no love where I'm from, from the outside to the inside The projects from uptown to downtown To across the river Niggas slangin' that dope motherfucker get cho' head twisted In the river, you gone, ain't no love meet the chrome I be in the project ballin' like the black Al Capone And if you come sick you stupid Cause my click don't give a fuck cause they ready to shoot shit Up but nigga you better duck nigga Before you find your body floatin' up the Mississippi River [Hook repeated to end with various ad-libs] |
||||||
| 15. |
| 4:58 |
|
|||
|
Check this out playas
All y'all gangster niggas Y'all motherfucking gangsta bitches out there (the dope game) I'm a let y'all know something (welcome to the dope game) Something that'll never end, this shit is going on like fucking numbers Black on black crime, nigga it go like this here We live an eye for an eye You kill me, I kill you, my partners kill your partners And you dead ain't no love on my spot Me and my partners pushing rocks Got them 17 round glocks at your ass spitting like loogies We packing heat, 32 round clips, my automatic uzi But I look into the eyes and I stare, I see death Goddamn thinking "the fuck?", it could be me My little homie on the ground crying I'm thinking I'm gone, Oh my lord My little homie Tony's dying (ripped his heart out) He never had a chance to see his life glow And he never had a chance to see his wife bro And his little kid is only 8 It ain't about me or you motherfucker You gone peep defeat off the tree Cause you die and you murder, how could you live on the streets And you never hurt, another nigga with a glock G I'm thinking about Tic-Toc Boom, there goes another one Send him to the moon Ain't no rocket ship bitch, it's the temple of doom I mean the ghetto, cause it's wicked Most niggas out there in the hood, trying to get a chicken But never even seen a bird They die for that cain and that weed and they water And they to fucking high, to see the enemy Niggas that pretend to be, fools don't come close to me Your best friend will kill you I'm from that 3rd Ward, Caliope Projects Where they peel your caps like bananas Police trying to stand on them buildings with them radars and scanners But they can't stop the murders Thats happening in my hood motherfuckers Cause everybody study capping in this Everyday, all day niggas dying, mothers crying But y'all niggas ain't realizing that the hood is murder Find your ass in a 6 inch gurder Cause niggas banging like Charlie Chan You'd better pack a piece nigga And welcome to the never ending game The never ending game, (the dope game) the never ending game Will I die up in my sleep, or die on these streets Cause the ghetto ain't no joke Niggas in my hood everyday getting smoked Welcome to the never ending game Will I die up in my sleep or die on these streets And the ghetto ain't no joke Cause every motherfucking day another nigga gets smoked And momma pray it ain't me But I'm addicted to this dope game, addicted to this green cheese I be making mail like the mailman This is for my partners in the hood pushing massive cain (ice cream) Through the hood of the projects Its fiends walking up for bubble ups You think I'm bout to reject When a nigga get some money, I got them gats cocked nigga I ain't living like no dummy If I die, I ain't scared to die, but don't ask me why Will I retire and give it up realize Thats this my only mission of money But y'all niggas look at a nigga hustling like its funny But I got to feed the family Even though if that take me getting fucking scandalous G And I have to hurt shit Put a nigga in the dirt, mean putting in work Lay him down, and punch in your time card Cause you never know when your ass bout to go meet the Lord So I live ruthless, reckless, and rangeless (dangerous) Don't give a fuck, my clique is ready to hang shit Off the rack, ain't no trap Just a bunch of motherfuckers walking with gats Through the projects and walky-talkies Jacking shit motherfucker ungh, thats why they bark Like dogs, watch a nigga hard And I be slanging dope like I'm getting paid like Lou Rollins And the white folks can't stop this And the Taz can't stop this nigga, cause I'm in the hood slanging rocks Getting paid cause I'm major And if I die fucking retire my shoes and hang up my pager And give 4 G's to my sons and kill my enemies Y'all can't stop a nigga please, even if I'm dead G And when I go out, I'm going out with a bang So fuck what you heard and welcome to the never ending game |
||||||
| 16. |
| 3:20 |
|
|||
|
[Master P]
Check this out playa. These niggas be quick to check another playa ya know what I'm sayin? But see that big booty bitch them niggas be rollin with? That bitch that they be buying all that jewelry for and gettin they hair fixed. That's goin be that bitch that's gonna get em killed if they don't watch what they doin. Ya know what I'm sayin? See what I'm sayin though. You gotta watch these old cornroll head bitches man. [Mo B. Dick] Chorus Fools PH'in, rollin on Dayton's, but you better watch dees hoes x2 [Master P] (Some of these hoes jack) Wendy look cool but this is a bad move Jump in your Benz and pick up another dude Ain't that some shit G That bitch say she loves you now she loves me And the game get wicked She only fuckin with a nigga cause you slangin chicken And if you was broke then you would know That bitch only hangin with a nigga cause he slang dough And wipe off that develish grin Cause when you dead and gone she'll be fuckin your best friend Now that's kinda hectic Make me wanna pop a bitch neck and move back to Texas [Mo B. Dick] Chorus x2 [Silkk] Um, well some of these niggas will jack but these hoes a jack too They be like lemme borrow your pencil so you can jack who Now um what, a nigga like me TRU so I don't play that game that you hoes play But I won't stay where you stay Now this be the time where the 9 be like buckin I gots no time to play I use these hoes when I be duckin Fuck what, these hoes be like scandelous, I don't understand it Niggas be riding by my SEL, some of these hoes be like man it When Silkk be at the crib countin my stack up Bangin my sack up, you hoes better back up before I leave you jacked up [Mo B. Dick] Chorus x2 [Mr. Serv-On] Do you see what I see Along with Silkk and P Do you know what I know Definately not click clack goes that glock I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some hoe hit me for my Prego nots Once I hit that G spot, you know I'm long like some stretch pots I ain't trippin if some hoes look like Robin Givens I'm shootin a three to the grill like Scottie Pippen Hell yeah I'm trippin My homie got his wig split on a pussy trip Since then hoes and money and pussy can never be my friend We can fuck till the end and when the morning comes If you flakin bitch I'm a leave your whole fuckin body shaking [Master P] Damn, yall niggas better be watchin these old bitches that be tryin to get a nigga for cabbage and cornbread. [Mo B. Dick] Chorus x2 [Tre-8] Now since I'm gettin paid a gang of bitches wanna sweat me Claimin that they pregnant and them hoes just met me I hate to bust your bubble and I hope your not emberrassed But I only fucked you once so why you talkin bout marriage I only hit and run bitch I'm too young to chill And I never say I love ya cause I know it ain't for real So chill with that dumb shit cause I'm the one that run shit And I ain't even try to hear that stupid shit you come with Dumb bitch I guess you figure I'm a pimp right So don't playa hate me, bitches get your shit tight [Mo B. Dick] Chorus x2 |
||||||
| 17. |
| 4:00 |
|
|||
|
[Featuring Silkk The Shocker]
Silkk Wassup fool? Silkk We gonna do this like real muthafuckin' g's. Silkk Time to take two in your fuckin' back Master P Young Silkk the shocker in this bitch Master P Bout that drama Master P No Limit [Silkk] Niggas must wanna fuckin' die bitch Talkin' that muthafuckin' shit I run with TRU I gives a fuck about who you run with Bitch we run this shit Nigga it be No Limit for life Across my stomach Runnin' is a bitch for the simple fact that I got drug money Got it for fifteen g's or more I ain't stretchen out upon the floor I want that cash in that bag Then Im'a dash I want that cash, and that dope It ain't no luv in this bitch I got a slug for a trick It's '95 my nigga, but I be livin' large and rich Gotta break 'em off the plastic Have them face down closed casket You niggas should never start that shit with a semi-automatic Stuff them niggas, freeze, show em my degrees I want them keys up in the lexus, bloody trail but police can't catch me Nigga wassup? (Murder) Fool Gettin' high up off that indo Niggas gettin' high 'n rich and bend low Cock with a glock Pop once to them low Nigga fade me Think I'm crazy? Nigga, I do this shit daily I'm bout that drama [Master P chorus] I'm bout that drama, I'm bout that drama No Limit niggas ready to kill We bout that drama We bout that drama bitch No Limit niggas are bout that drama That drama drama We bout that drama Givin' niggas one way tickets to the bahamas [Silkk] Bitch I been about that drama Nigga, this shit ain't gon' fuckin' stop My bullets ain't got no name and plus my trigga ain't gots no heart Freeze You niggas better duck I'm quick as fuck Nigga I'm rollin' in this fuckin' cutlass I gives a fuck bitch Nigga I falls for that bitch and ducks this nigga don't need to run though Cuz I'm knockin' everything up off the front porch With this gat 1-1-0 Nigga watch straight street sweeper Watchin' the block and the glock cock Nigga, boz with that shot your dome It be known I'm from the southside Bitch you thought wrong, I stick and move with this pistol grip I see you bleedin' tryna' get to the phone Call 9-1-1 But to late, you caught up in a 1-8-7 Stretched out on the stretcher Can't catch me bitch I'm to smooth Bullets to the dome, and I'm on and cool How you gon' catch me when the police ain't got no evidence I represent I bet you I get dead presidents Before I die I'm bust more fly For '97 P and Silkk gon' sell a billion. *Master P chorus and talking* |
||||||
| 18. |
| - |
|
|||
| 19. |
| - |
|
|||
|
[Mo B. Dick]
Things ain't what they used to be. Things ain't what they used to be. Verse 1: [Master P] I remember back in the days it wasn't like that Everybody knew everybody, now days it ain't like that We used to stand on the corners and drink brew Now days you gotta duck when they drive through Cause they blastin', life is like plastic But who would be the next egg took out the easter basket Is it you, me, or her or she or he? who would live to see the long age of 23? Cause once you dead and gone who gives a damn On your tombstone would read Rest In Peace Sam But in the ghetto you cooked 'till you dead Ain't no love when you dead and gone cause you red Like roaches for the gutter, peanut butter your life in the gutter , fool cause you fluttered With this game that I spit, shoot out, don't quit Now you a victim of society another statistic I heard the gunshots rain from the middle of the street The gunsmoke cleared three people on the concrete I mean it's crazy, slippin' on daisies Time to call it quits, they done put a bullet in a baby Chorus: [Master P & Mo. B Dick] Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Verse 2: [Master P] Watch you back in the ghetto black Open the box, Mom's ain't nothing to eat Back in the day, I thought we was a family My little brother on the street corner selling crack Only 15 used to be a quarterback I wish the law would rehabilitate my auntie I came home try to visit that girl tried to do me Started tweakin said that she needed crack Stole my grandma's rent money out her purse black I stay Tru 2 Da Game you devils' can't see me I put that on my mom, I put that on my gold teeth My homies bangin' ,no respect for the American flag But they kill over that blue and red rag Chorus: Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Verse 3: [Master P] I remember back in the day smoking weed was the everyday drug Now days they shoot heroin and sell blood Back in the day catchin the clamps was gettin us shot Now days catch the AIDS and your time will stop My lil homies doin time, 25 with a L A victim of the system, I'd rather die and go to hell I try to be legit and start my own company 'Till these sucker want to bump into P They point the finger at me for tellin another what to do How could another person tell you what to do I could tell you to rob or steal or kill Thats like pointin' the finger at Jack or Jill For being the first person on this little earth Is like askin' Mary why she had to give birth And who would be the next victim to lose his life And who would be the next one to make a life But when you make a life you gotta learn to teach your kid So one day they can grow up and make it big But all this gangbangin' and turf wars gotta cease Cause y'all know we livin in the last days G Chorus: Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be Times done changed things ain't what they used to be |
||||||
| 20. |
| 4:44 |
|
|||
|
[Master P]
Ha Ha Ha Most niggas might think I'm crazy when I tell em this (Yeah G) But you know what most nigga look up to like Presidents Niggas thats in sports All this type of shit as heroes They might look at motherfuckin Muhammed Ali Yah know Sugar Ray Leanord, Mike Tyson, but me.. [Master P] Air Jordan aint no motherfuckin hero G My heroes is niggas in the ghetto that slang D That right on chrome and triple gold and pimp hoes And take any nigga in the click to the Super Bowl And party like it aint nothin But most of my homies they done died over drug money Like Bizzy Bob and Sam Skutty but I still love em Air full of motherfucker and I still wanna hug em Big Dave, my nigga gone to the battle field Dandon and Levi, damn guard ya grill Cuz where ya goin you gotta watch your back Judge, god damn another nigga didnt make it back (Mr.C) My lil brother Kevin Miller rest in peace Elbraud, Nextditch, and Big Leaf Lil Girl, and Boo, and Anguard Big Pepper, God damn what yall thinkin about They gone, I mean they soldiers But thets the type of cal i live up and hold to Like Joe Jackson, Lil Emmo Randy,Sir Pat, God damn They got bigger, the list go longer I could start from New Orleans and go back to California To lil Tony,to dime P Seritz,Burnell,can't believe That he's gone, the Scarface Dank,Loot,and Meathead And what about Kenny Sep And all my niggas that dead and gone that got caught in the rep And my other heroes still livin But they locked up behind bars, caught up in some pigeons Like my lil cousin Jimmy,lil Horgel Randall,Marlow,Pee Wee damn Another mission complete Took off the streets locked up by the police Meatball, and Nap, La Crowe Pac, jinte, the gats go pow But my homies got caught up Even though they had no way out the ghetto but the come up Off the streets in the hood money Thats why my heroes live for drug money [Chorus x4] My Ghetto Heroes I watched em live fast, I watched em die slow [Skull Duggery] What you mean I need a hero A hero is a zero to me The only hero that I know is them niggas in my hood G They gave me the game so I enhanced the gat Than I took the game, and ripped it out the frame I tried and told ya A hero can't be ya lucky rabbit's foot or ya 4-leaf clover It all be a myth in ya mind A hero aint about shit if they aint about dying You know who was a hero to me that nigga MoXs on the Howard J G [Master P] And yall other niggas thats still livin That wanna be a hero but can't be givin Yo life up for these streets But this goin out to my homies out there slangin D That still hustlin in the game tryin to make it But yall niggas better realize you cant fake it You either in or out aint no halfway in Cuz when you die in the end you go to the pen And its realer than you real niggas feel me This for my niggas that are heroes in my hood G |
||||||
|
