Lyrics:
Yo
Hey yo, you all remember Shiro
Down low the money
Snaked by his girl and the friend he called his right hand
Things have been different from
callin
Henacee and weed when they bury P
a quarter key, 6 G's, when they carry me
fall on my knees to no nigga
trapped in this hood, raised by
No emotion for these yats
Keep on grafting for my p
I feel spirits on my shoulder
Stacking dough piece, by piece
My white bitch
Love doing cocaine
cause im paid(Im living like a hustler)
x4
[Girl]
Tom Cool and shit, watch you mean by fuck a bitch
[Master P]
What else should I say fuck a bitch
Aw yeah, vacation's over, sucker's still pickin' on a 4 leaf clover
As I say mic check
EPMD's in effect
Snappin' necks and cashin' large checks, as I
Still them 1-6-Ooh niggas, straight up
Whoa, hold up, hold up
The nozzle aim, rip through your frame for pocket change
Fiend for the Rush Hour 4
Shake that body, party that bod
Shake that body, party that bod
Shake that body, party that body
Come and have a good time with G.O.D
I believe
These troubles of life
Seem to come without warning
Up thinking bout P
This was four in the morning
Heard somebody killed him
But nobody's mourning
I was
say Kane & Abel
Trying to keep some change in my pockets, some food on my table
Verse 4 (Silkk)
You know what P your right
Cause
Squad L.O.D. for life (word up, yeah fuck your life)
Act trife I'll let my dog cold fuck your wife
Aiyyo, you just heard the sounds of Mally G
Redman,
where the wind don't die
We even try to bake the cake or pie
????, bust on by for my niggas incarcerated
Where you gotta do life or get your
a check
There's a secret society, all we ask is trust
No G money shit all we gots is us
True indeed, yes, more better, yes
More cheddar, S.P. chain,
the picture, like a compository sketch
Yeah Sig' stay honest I'll deposit you a check
There's a secret society, all we ask is trust
No G money shit all we
like to sell B's, honey.
We hot, check the Billboard spot.
Twenty-four g's an' P's to make a club rock.
Now they violent, gotta get it rowdy.
Peep
really ready?
No, I hit make 'em sick like a *choghs* bad cold
Lil Doogey and I ride the 4 by 4 shh
Nigga I'm too fast you can't slow my roll What
Nowadays they too IG I can't get with or d-i-g
Before you zag I z-i-g can't get booked like a g-i-g
I just want the money, don't want the crown I ain't T-I-P
competion
Like federal and the dog
Young Money nigga we ball
Like Kobe and Chris Paul
For givn' the whack crackas
Still sippin' Crystal
Wavin' the life line
Street to y'all street
If ya missed it, I stay consistant, we got heat
C-P-T style, O-G me style
The D-J, Q-U-I-K with no C style
In yo' town, don't
(Life life)
Check this out
I'm the hardest of the hardest
The realest of the realest
But see I don't fuck nothing but G's ballers and killers
So
Life based off profit shit ya boy gone shine
Money in my pocket nigga money on my mind
Life based off profit shit your boy gone shine
Money On my
I hung her
You smoking lil bro and I'm smoking big uncle
Got so much green in the trap it's a jungle
Plug sending p's in a pack by the bundle
I'm
callin
Henacee and weed when they bury P
a quarter key, 6 G's, when they carry me
fall on my knees to no nigga
trapped in this hood, raised by
are the thing
Life has no meaning and money is king
Then he looked at me slowly and Hen had to grin
He said, man you out early, we thought you got
the expressions of a G
And I'ma be chasing after them g's until I R.I.P.
Its Paul Wall baby
What it do? Been banging Screw since '92
Fat Pat n Lil Kee Kee,
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