Lyrics:
[Master P]
Come 1 come all, true niggas ball (I told ya),
I know there's niggas out there wait'n fo' the fall
[Chorus: x2]
After Dollars, No
happened to L, what happened to Proof and Jam Jay though
Hip-hop'll lean on you, R-I-P to Fredo
Young niggas stay woke, old niggas stay woke
It's rainin'
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice P-Rhymes rich
"I'm c Ball"
[Chorus (Macc Dundee)]
Ever since i was a young in i been serving game cold
Was born with the gift of gab you know i stack my pesos
get richer by the day
Selling P's out extended stay
Pull up at Ruth Chris and eat a steak
Hook Outro [Trey Haitian]
I will ride for my niggas mane
But still shorty wild
Turned on by forty cals
Was young never saw me wild, clutch Robert Horry style
No wonder why I picked up triggers to beef
I
fore wall, necklace wearin' beard
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I got
corner but no Gracie
Sixteen with ten p's that's no problem
Put those in motion like Chris Godwin
Vacuum sealed the p's and then ship those
Big steppers
fore wall, necklace wearin' beard
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I got
Press 3 if you accept the charges, if not hang up
[Ludacris]
To my cousin Darren Ranch, stay up homie
To my brother Chris Butler, stay up homie
If
I'm a young boy, straight from north Flo
My heart so cold, R.I.P Fro
I'm from city where I can stay, but can't go
I could leave by myself or take my
a ten-foot pole they ain't touching me
When I was young I use to steal from the store on some junkie shit
As I got older tables turned I got robbed by
you accept the charges, if not hang up
To my cousin Darren Ranch, stay up homie
To my brother Chris Butler, stay up homie
If you locked in the box,
could rewind
But that ain't how life is designed
Shout out the local blogs that shed light on my rhymes
And young niggas on the same grind fightin'
where we were supposed to be
Tired of all the cruddy beef it just lead to eulogies
Before draggin was the word
We working out them curbs
Too young to even
to my knees
And I just say, Lord, can you bless all the P's
I know it's hard to sit back and watch a young nigga eat
Especially white niggas cappin'
yeah
Plus I’m a fire nigga
Your booking fee is prolly just my rider nigga yeah
I don’t like a lot of niggas
R I P Nip you can’t trust a nigga
Do it for
number for the souls under the heavens
Because I disrespected reverend confessions of my presence
Life lessons with a message, protracted by the most high
SILKK THE SHOCKER LYRICS
"My Homie"
(feat. C-Murder, Master P)
[Master P]
Damn. I never thought I'd be wearin a suit and tie so many times a year,
Facing down a blunt while I'm chilling on the deck
Hennessy drown out my enemies none of niggas can get to me
Just got a bag watch me flip me a p for
to make it rain
Yeah, third album, nothing was the same
It ain't safe, it ain't safe, A-$-A-P
I come from The Bay where the cuddies say "Yee"
Touchdown
22 years old
Graduated college think I'm bad and bold
Now my life dun changed songs don't write the same
Yung Chris is growing up and I don't like my
said I needed P's they
Tried to send me cunch
It's fucking real that
Them niggas think they're putting on
For you by buying chains
Try and send that gold
myself
All alone in another city
I get my bill the Chris was 9.50
2 G's for them bottles of Don P
It was just me and the hoes was free
This is what an ol'
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