| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 5:03 | 
|
|||
| 2. |
| 3:06 | 
|
|||
|
<i>[Intro]</i>
Nigga what'chu worryin 'bout whassup with me? What fire is that, what house I'm rollin on? Do I holla at Curt, what's Unc doin? What's up with Suave? Nigga you dem people {?} <i>[Chorus 4X: Master P]</i> Snitches stop callin the cops - cause I ain't playin Better watch what you say on the block - cause I ain't playin <i>[Master P]</i> I left the hood for a week, and my name start ringin Like I'm hustlin sellin dope, you got beef then bring it I heard fire did this, and P.D. they trippin That's why I sleep with two gats you never catch me slippin I smell pussy, and most of you niggaz are rats See I'm a dog motherfucker and I don't fuck with you cats Callin me on the phone, nigga lookin for cola How could a nigga from the hood nigga turn into the roller This shit's so twisted, it got me trippin Got the feds thinkin I've got birds in the kitchen These niggaz'll throw salt in your name my nigga Just to get a couple dollars and some fame my nigga It ain't no loyalty, your only family'll set you up For the right price my nigga they'll wet you up I watched niggaz get ghost, when shit be over How many niggaz gon' visit C, if he go to Angola <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> Man this music shit political dawg, don't fuck with it I'd invest in somethin else if I wasn't already in it Man most of these niggaz'll just yap they mouth Send subliminal messages 'til shit get out Believe none of what you hear, and half of what you see See the rap game is dirty like the C-P-3 Most niggaz'll fear death, these streets is real black Our radio programmers think they holdin careers back And Hollywood bitches be ready to wife a nigga All you need is a hit record and some ice my nigga And the media dickriders slow up like flat tires Seen they lil' career blow up again when shit dies They say we ignorant and we stereotype Even seen Michael Jackson live the criminal life See these haters'll hate mayne, smile in your face mayne Call them people on ya try to give you a case mayne <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Outro]</i> Heh, he he If y'all don't know us Y'all better keep our name out y'all motherfuckin mouth Cause it's gon' get real ugly after this you feel me? Y'all can't beat us then join us |
||||||
| 3. |
| 4:18 |
|
|||
|
chorus: Master P
Let me see it Let me see it Let me see it Let me see it Let me see that cat Let me see that cat oh BBbbbbitch i don't know what's next but i love to watch porn because i love sex Fuck some bitches and let them suck dick like leeches bridge: C-Los Let me see it Girl I'll make you twirl You son of a gun Let me fuck you hun I'll make you see the sun And you're going to have fun Chorus:Tank Pop Black: Let me see that cat I wanna see if it's as big as a bat Let me see it Becuase i wanna fuck that shit c'mon girl i want to fuck that cat i love you cause you're the shit Let me see it becuase i'll make you see the world I'm like ludacris because i'm pimpin all over the world so let me see it Chorus: Ruga Lil D: Let mee see that shit In return i won't treat you like shit it's the truth, i aint making bullshit Let me fuck that shit if you have one wish like ray j your wish is my command because i'm a baller, but i am not gay im not going to be like frakie j because i don't have to deal and im baller for real and i am not gay like frankie j chorus:Master P, C-Los, Pop Black, Lil D, Tank, And Ruga |
||||||
| 4. |
| 2:51 |
|
|||
|
<i>[MP]</i> Slim Thug you ready?
<i>[ST]</i> Geyeah! <i>[MP]</i> I'm on my way from New Orleans, and I'm comin to Texas <i>[MP]</i> And we gon' handle this, ya heard? <i>[ST]</i> Slim Thugga <i>[MP]</i> Ghetto Bill! <i>[Chorus 4X: Master P]</i> Lay it down, lay it down Tear this motherfucker UP, shut it down <i>[Master P]</i> Security couldn't stop us, go see the doctor Nigga wanna fight I got a motherfuckin chopper I'm in the back gettin blunted with thugs Whole city walk through, they give me kisses and hugs I'm a real motherfucker, I ain't takin no shit I got golds in my mouth, and ice on my wrist Homies see me in the club and they tryin to hate I'm poppin bottles in the club cause I'm hard as a 8 Suckers try to mean mug but they ain't bustin a grape Get my money from the block flippin quarters and eighths I'm a No Limit Soldier, motherfucker you heard me Uptown, Calliope, projects to dirty 65 for birdies, call me you thirsty I'm a legend in the hood like the boy James Worthy You ain't a soldier motherfucker keep steppin Turn a, 211 to a 187 - yeah <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Slim Thug]</i> Slim Thuggahhhh Boys gotta lay it down when the boss come around Or the glock fo' pound gon' knock 'em on the ground Geyeah - you can vouch in my town I'm a motherfuckin G And I got a lotta soldiers on my team like P I get word that them haters tryna catch a nigga slippin - what? Run your ass up and you gon' catch a ass-whippin I'm flippin through my hood on Vogues, still tippin Glock cocked with the clip in, hell naw I ain't trippin I'm a Boss Hogg Outlaw, chasin my bread Snitch niggaz out here tellin got me shakin the feds I'm in the club pullin hoes, fuck datin instead I got a supermodel at the crib waitin in bed Got the blocks on lock, you gotta come see the boss If you wanna get the work for the dirt cheap cost Me and Master P represent the bottom of the South And if nigga hate that, he'll lose the bottom of his mouth, geyeah <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> BLACK SOPRANOS!! |
||||||
| 5. |
| 2:42 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Chorus 4X: Master P]</i>
I won't stop 'til they feel me dawg They can't knock a nigga hustle they gotta kill me dawg <i>[Master P]</i> You can find me on the block my nigga Ain't nuttin changed, still runnin from the cops my nigga I feel like B.I.G. and 'Pac my nigga "All Eyez on Me," but I got this nigga P. Miller shoes, camou' top my nigga I'm from the hood so I'm strapped with two glocks my nigga You wanna scrap but I don't box my nigga Black Sopranos up in here and you get popped my nigga I told Bob hold me a spot my nigga Case these industry bitches try to stop a nigga Try to sue me but I'm on top my nigga Bentley Coupe, P. Miller rims, convertible top my nigga Keep my enemies close and watch my friends And I'ma rep the New No Limit 'til the casket bend We did it once, we'll do it again I don't follow I lead my nigga I set trends <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Pop]</i> Yo, all you blacks in white, I promise you these two techs create enough firepower to make a coward's chest deflate See Poppa pull up to yo' sets and spray, so you ain't gotta be on public housing to get yo' section ate/eight - ayyyy Now won't you chumps go dare front for? Get dumped on tryin to knock my hustle like a front do' Punk no, you better come off my bread pronto Fo' my guns blow and leave cats wetter than panchos The head honcho, from low peels to sex or grass I bleed on blocks like tampons and maxi-pads Until I'm sleepin on stacks of cash - my triggers are like niggaz around strippers they'll snap ya ass Keep actin bad, the two-buck can eat ya whole crew up So you ain't gotta come down to Houston to get Screwed Up I move more yellow on the block than a school bus So if you need a clique to hate on then don't choose us <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
 |
6. |
| 4:01 |
|
||
|
[Intro: Master P]
When I'm alone my car... I'm thinking about Miss Lorenzo... My girl amy... Sprewells,Giovanni,Daytons,Mo-Mos,Diablows and my girl Ashanti...... [Chorus: Master P 2x] I need dubs when I ride to the club Cruisin with my girl,even rollin with thugs, I need dubs 22's, 24's shinin in the hood, I'm the king of the car shows... [Verse 1: Master P] I see it I buy it, you need it I got it, I could transform a car til' a hally berry body man Regular wheels I banned um, don't stand um I'm the first one to put sprewells on a phantom Girls see me and scream!!! I'm repin Orleans I got toys baby flex ain't never seen Xzibit in the game but he can't pimp my ride, I got everything flip from the in to the outside Them lambo doors 50' talkin bout I had um on a cutless befo' I brought me house I put ice on my grill just to hurt them haters 27 diped in crome for the escalator Put candy on the body so it glow in the dark Put light on my rims for at night when they walk Can't roll like no scrub, man on no hubs Ghetto bill up in here... y'all know what's up! [Chorus 2x] [Verse 2: Master P] From the streets to the pin You know the soldiers gon' win When they see me on t.v. they say he did it again,! From his shoes to his clothes he's ballin outta of contol, From the bentley to the beamer to the hummer with 6 doors... But wody don't stunt, make them 6 fours jump, Like reebox pumps, P miller amps in the truck louis vettan Ferrari, 360 is so clean..... Ashanti rims, that really bing bing And girls trip when they get in the ride I got see-L 5, steering wheel on the other side, And I'm gangsta man, whatcha thinkin man?.... Shawty want to roll cause I'm on them Twinkies man [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: LiL Romeo] Now I'm know I'm kinda young but I keep my dubs clean... Nick name my rims deime (d-e-i-m-e) cause they older then me At the age of 15 man, doin big thinkgs man, Don't hate dog! (why) cause you ain't me man Some say I'm ballin cause my crome stay crawlin Took the phantom for a ride, now they stay I'm night crawlin Never get hungry cause I keep them deep dish'es The people you saw, then they take pictures My hummer sit clean on the shaq's minus 8 White, gold and purple, just like them old days (man...) Now its kinda crazy cause Mercedes getting jeolous (what?) Range won't asanti's but they can't have it All for less its my baby, my boo, if I ever need help! I just scream whoodi whoo!, P miller speakers match my p.miller sneakers The ones on my feet and the ones on my beamer! [Chorus 2x] |
||||||
| 7. |
| 2:47 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Intro]</i>
I'm too strong to lose, I mean My hustlin skills keep me in the game I've got too much paper to fall off Man you can take all kind of shots at me I'll bounce back <i>[Chorus: repeat 2X]</i> You only get one life my nigga And they steady throwin stones but I'm alright my nigga The same way they did Christ my nigga But I ain't mad at 'em, they hurtin and I'm alright my nigga <i>[Master P]</i> See "I'm a Hustla" homey and you a customer homey I ain't Cassidy or Jigga but you can't touch me homey I get my money from the block nigga the Ghetto Bill Gates I got niggaz on my team from the South to the Bay I didn't change when I made it I kept stackin my bacon I'm on the block hustlin hard like I'm black and Jamaican First they love you then hate you, man these bitches'll break you From the streets to the pen, man these niggaz'll fade you Man yo' mother could take you, man yo' brother could hate you I got cousins tryin to kill each other, catchin the vapors Disown ya mayne, run up on ya mayne Pops said what don't kill you make you stronger mayne <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> Niggaz rattin for cream, rappers switchin up teams I'm like Michael Jordan nigga I'm tryin to follow my dream Real niggaz gon' feel me, see these streets'll kill me But I'm out here thuggin tryin to feed these children Turn my family against me, man these cops'll flip me Play my records if I die, like radio miss me Ghetto niggaz made history, then the media hit me I guess I ain't controversy enough like Game and 50 I'm from the streets my nigga, pack that heat my nigga I'm a boss but suit and ties that ain't me my nigga I'm from the hood my nigga, what's good my nigga Uptown, Callope, I'm a bull my nigga I'm on the block gettin paper nigga you can't hate me nigga My son worth seven figures you can't break me nigga I'm on the grind gettin cheddar and cheese And I started in the ghetto back in New Orleans I'm a hustler homey <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 8. |
| 3:50 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Master P]</i>
Hey ma <i>[repeat 3X]</i> Hey ma, you want a lil' or a lot <i>[Chorus: Master P - repeat 2X]</i> Shake it for me shorty, work what you got I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot Front to the back to the bottom to the top I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot <i>[Verse One: Master P, C-Los]</i> It's like cancer mayne, I roll massive mayne You see them thighs and that butt, she's a dancer mayne I keep it gully like I don't even see her Tell my boy in the cut man holla when you see her I'm bling blingin man, me and Ghetto Bill I put my number on a hundred dollar bill You want to party shorty, you need to call me shorty I talk country cause you know I'm from New Orleans shorty Let yourself go - you can get naughty shorty P. Miller shoes on that candy red Ferrari shorty Yeah I'm young but I spit it through my soul like I'm old One of the reason my pockets stay swoll when I roll Los hold the fo'fo, headin low, slow stroll Keep an attitude for women that's, oh so cold Yeah I see you actin up, this the way to back it up We them No Limit boys you know our paper stackin up <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> Don't stop ma, drop it like it's hot Get low with it, go with it, show me you a pro with it I'm usually not the type to jock But you sorta like the type that I would like to watch Shake that, make that thang go to the flo' I'm not Omarion but I could make you say OH Let's go from the Willow to the Ward Don't hold nuttin back ma, let me get it all <i>[Verse Three: Tank]</i> Let a thug get up in that, Tank tryin to pin that Back it out, toss ya up, 360 spin that We in it to win that, body for the weekend You can bring your girlfriends I'ma bring the heaters Ready for heavy breathin, pumpin and sweatin We can do it all night, girl you 'bout that right? 'Less you front on my people we ain't comin to fight We comin to toss money, now shake somethin for me <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Four]</i> Look at shawty, she movin like a damn machine Man she mean, she shakin like a tamborine Booty bustin out her pants and seams So that may be why her cheeks bounce like kids on trampolines Yeahh - I'm just sayin how she walk she can make you put Bucks on her like a Milwaukee fan Now I'm layin backwards, stayin back now I'm payin stacks Cause her ass bouncin like the ball when you playin jacks Now I ain't sayin that I'm trickin at all But if she fine like a waiter I'll be tippin a broad She strippin it off, it's probably cause the stacks the man hold The 'llacs to Land, Rolls, I'm a Black Soprano In the back with tanned pros, now let's do a little math Add me and subtract your pants slow I wanna see you clown on the dance flo' So shake like ya pros and bounce to the banjos <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 9. |
| 3:06 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Master P]</i>
Hey ma <i>[repeat 3X]</i> Hey ma, you want a lil' or a lot <i>[Chorus: Master P - repeat 2X]</i> Shake it for me shorty, work what you got I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot Front to the back to the bottom to the top I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot <i>[Verse One: Master P, C-Los]</i> It's like cancer mayne, I roll massive mayne You see them thighs and that butt, she's a dancer mayne I keep it gully like I don't even see her Tell my boy in the cut man holla when you see her I'm bling blingin man, me and Ghetto Bill I put my number on a hundred dollar bill You want to party shorty, you need to call me shorty I talk country cause you know I'm from New Orleans shorty Let yourself go - you can get naughty shorty P. Miller shoes on that candy red Ferrari shorty Yeah I'm young but I spit it through my soul like I'm old One of the reason my pockets stay swoll when I roll Los hold the fo'fo, headin low, slow stroll Keep an attitude for women that's, oh so cold Yeah I see you actin up, this the way to back it up We them No Limit boys you know our paper stackin up <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> Don't stop ma, drop it like it's hot Get low with it, go with it, show me you a pro with it I'm usually not the type to jock But you sorta like the type that I would like to watch Shake that, make that thang go to the flo' I'm not Omarion but I could make you say OH Let's go from the Willow to the Ward Don't hold nuttin back ma, let me get it all <i>[Verse Three: Tank]</i> Let a thug get up in that, Tank tryin to pin that Back it out, toss ya up, 360 spin that We in it to win that, body for the weekend You can bring your girlfriends I'ma bring the heaters Ready for heavy breathin, pumpin and sweatin We can do it all night, girl you 'bout that right? 'Less you front on my people we ain't comin to fight We comin to toss money, now shake somethin for me <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Four]</i> Look at shawty, she movin like a damn machine Man she mean, she shakin like a tamborine Booty bustin out her pants and seams So that may be why her cheeks bounce like kids on trampolines Yeahh - I'm just sayin how she walk she can make you put Bucks on her like a Milwaukee fan Now I'm layin backwards, stayin back now I'm payin stacks Cause her ass bouncin like the ball when you playin jacks Now I ain't sayin that I'm trickin at all But if she fine like a waiter I'll be tippin a broad She strippin it off, it's probably cause the stacks the man hold The 'llacs to Land, Rolls, I'm a Black Soprano In the back with tanned pros, now let's do a little math Add me and subtract your pants slow I wanna see you clown on the dance flo' So shake like ya pros and bounce to the banjos <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 10. |
| 2:24 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Master P]</i>
Hey ma <i>[repeat 3X]</i> Hey ma, you want a lil' or a lot <i>[Chorus: Master P - repeat 2X]</i> Shake it for me shorty, work what you got I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot Front to the back to the bottom to the top I ain't gon' stop 'til I hit that spot <i>[Verse One: Master P, C-Los]</i> It's like cancer mayne, I roll massive mayne You see them thighs and that butt, she's a dancer mayne I keep it gully like I don't even see her Tell my boy in the cut man holla when you see her I'm bling blingin man, me and Ghetto Bill I put my number on a hundred dollar bill You want to party shorty, you need to call me shorty I talk country cause you know I'm from New Orleans shorty Let yourself go - you can get naughty shorty P. Miller shoes on that candy red Ferrari shorty Yeah I'm young but I spit it through my soul like I'm old One of the reason my pockets stay swoll when I roll Los hold the fo'fo, headin low, slow stroll Keep an attitude for women that's, oh so cold Yeah I see you actin up, this the way to back it up We them No Limit boys you know our paper stackin up <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> Don't stop ma, drop it like it's hot Get low with it, go with it, show me you a pro with it I'm usually not the type to jock But you sorta like the type that I would like to watch Shake that, make that thang go to the flo' I'm not Omarion but I could make you say OH Let's go from the Willow to the Ward Don't hold nuttin back ma, let me get it all <i>[Verse Three: Tank]</i> Let a thug get up in that, Tank tryin to pin that Back it out, toss ya up, 360 spin that We in it to win that, body for the weekend You can bring your girlfriends I'ma bring the heaters Ready for heavy breathin, pumpin and sweatin We can do it all night, girl you 'bout that right? 'Less you front on my people we ain't comin to fight We comin to toss money, now shake somethin for me <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Four]</i> Look at shawty, she movin like a damn machine Man she mean, she shakin like a tamborine Booty bustin out her pants and seams So that may be why her cheeks bounce like kids on trampolines Yeahh - I'm just sayin how she walk she can make you put Bucks on her like a Milwaukee fan Now I'm layin backwards, stayin back now I'm payin stacks Cause her ass bouncin like the ball when you playin jacks Now I ain't sayin that I'm trickin at all But if she fine like a waiter I'll be tippin a broad She strippin it off, it's probably cause the stacks the man hold The 'llacs to Land, Rolls, I'm a Black Soprano In the back with tanned pros, now let's do a little math Add me and subtract your pants slow I wanna see you clown on the dance flo' So shake like ya pros and bounce to the banjos <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 11. |
| 3:09 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Chorus: kids]</i>
He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole, hood, in, his, hand <i>[Master P]</i> I got them thugs in the south, in my hand I got them thugs in the east, in my hand I got the north and the west, in my hand Ghetto Bill got them in his hand <i>[Verse One]</i> I'm a fool shorty, so watch me float I'm so gutta so gangsta and I got dough I'm in the Guinness book of records I can never go broke I'm the first kid out the project to get a TV-show man I'm on the block clack and skrilla I don't wear boxers at night, I wear p-millers And my shoes I lay some up when I'm going or walk I'm the first one to put spinning wheels on a luxury car, man I'm ghetto fab, check out my gold grill My Teeth had twisted, they call me Ghetto Bill I'm a no limit soldier but I love the kids Send money to the pence, they doing it big Even though I free ballin', I don't made it big I'm still stuck through the hood trying to save these kids And I do whatever just to save these kids I got the whole hood in my hand <i>[Chorus: kids]</i> He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole, hood, in, his, hand <i>[Master P]</i> I got them thugs in the south, in my hand I got them thugs in the east, in my hand I got the north and the west, in my hand Ghetto Bill got them in his hand <i>[Verse Two]</i> Be all u can be, be the greatest like Mohammed Ali Make them love you when they hate to see It's a trip when u fall in your dreams You like donuts and milk, you could buy crispy cream You could be educated and still be a thug You can say no to drugs and still have fun in the club You can be a movie star eternity to the governor And rap like Romeo and still listen to your mother It aint nothing wrong making it out of the hood But never forget were you came from shorty it's all good I'd like to thank BET for believing in me Steven Hill, Ms. (?) my boy Kelly G I've had in bitted myself and I'm back on top I guess, there's one for the boys on the block See I'm a no limit soldier like Chucky Ace Its mister makes them say ??Uhh??got it on the craig <i>[Chorus: kids]</i> He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole hood, in his hand He got the whole, hood, in, his, hand <i>[Master P]</i> I got them thugs in the south, in my hand I got them thugs in the east, in my hand I got the north and the west, in my hand Ghetto Bill got them in his hand |
||||||
| 12. |
| 3:10 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Chorus]</i>
Why you lean when you walk, look mean when you talk Keep that green in the vault -- we some gangsters nigga White tees on the block, 23's on the drop And you keep them thangs cocked -- cause we some gangsters nigga <i>[Master P]</i> My lifestyle gangster, I'm from the gutter, the bottom nigga I learned the game but it wasn't from Godfather <i>[Pop]</i> Pop'll slide up beside ya nigga, take ya block nice My neighborhood like I'm Mr. Rogers, nigga <i>[Master P]</i> Nigga here to "Lean Back," but you know I'm not Joey nigga I give you work, better pay me what you owe me nigga <i>[Pop]</i> Befo' a nigga expose the trigger And have you mobbin it like you gone off of 'dro and liquor <i>[Master P]</i> I'm a bonafide hustler, certified gangster Wile E. Coyote keep one up in the chamber <i>[Pop]</i> To bang your frame up, hot thang rearranger My pistol pointin at niggaz like Mystikal, "DANGER!" And momma told me not to talk to strangers So I let the heat speak out and bark to strangers I got that Doublemint heat, how I pack two thangs And red hot, now let the Black Sopranos spend knot <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> It ain't hard to tell, you know I get cake The sound system in my six-fo' sound like I kidnapped a earthquake The Jakes want me off the road Cause I got enough bricks to land me in jail without parole Don't fold under pressure, I don't even do my own dirt I got connects with the mob out in Russia I'll rush ya, blast the 8, fuck bein grimy I'm too cute to get a scar on my face I spend cake like a fashionable dude Catch me, G'd up, in a P. Miller khaki suit It's No Limit how I'm movin these pies The Chuck Taylor patent leather, with a pic of Eazy-E on the side I'ma ride, fuck tuckin my jewels and the chain Got a cross, that's brighter than a Harvard student I'm improvin, gettin better Took off the chinchilla I'm in mink like a smooth guerilla <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse Three]</i> Okay, the definition of a GANGSTER, mouth closed Guns out, clip loaded, aim lock shots bang ya Never serve shit to a stranger Undercovers comin in for arrangers, watch for the danger Watch for them haters they filled with anger They try to steal your shine if they can't steal your paper Niggaz mad cause the kid doin it major I'm gunnin for the top, gun cocked with the laser <i>[Ruga]</i> They call me young Rug', yeah that's my name I do work for P. Miller, No Limit the game You C-Murder on the block, it's the Soldiers mayne Black Sopranos leave you slumped in the car of your dreams And my location, I'm in the Cali breeze Smokin on that good, no stems no seeds I lay low with the baddest brawl I got a record deal but the hood still breakin me off <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 13. |
| 4:29 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Intro: Master P]</i>
Man you need to cut all that woofin out Either you from the hood or you ain't from the hood But if you ain't from the hood, don't be actin like you from the hood (NEW NO LIMIT) Cause niggaz gon expose these fake niggaz <i>[Chorus: Halleluyah]</i> Don't make me put my hands on you nigga, I'ma show you what I'm bout Keep yappin at the mouth and get knocked the fuck out Knocked the fuck out, knocked the fuck out Keep yappin at the mouth and get knocked the fuck out Don't make me put my hands on you nigga, I'ma show you what I'm bout Keep yappin at the mouth and get knocked the fuck out Knocked the fuck out, knocked the fuck out Keep yappin at the mouth and get knocked the fuck out <i>[Master P]</i> Need to stop yappin, quackin soundin like a duck Quick to holla whats up when a thug pull up I see you fake ass twisted niggaz straight to the side and can't even look a real nigga straight in the eye Screamin "Bust a nigga head" but real killers don't talk You could tell a real gangster how he act and how we act See, you and your click don't wanna face me nigga I'll detroit indiana fuckin pace ya nigga Cause I'm crazy like my dad, a wild coyote Show you what Shaq shoulda did to Kobe Slap him in his mouth, nigga fuck Jerry Buss That fool still talkin, beat his bitch ass up You a rookie under me so respect your elders Get a country ass whoopin tryin to be rebelous The New No Limit, we ain't scared to go to war Have you spoof when you leave the house or ridin in your car <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> You can't live in a glasshouse and try and throw stones I'm a New No Limit soldier, got it tatted on my arm See you puh puh poolay, fuck what you say We get to stomping like soldiers in Peru Bay Real thugs get it crunk in the club You don't give a fuck then throw your hood up I got a couple screws missing, they say I talk in my sleep I'm addicted to money and weed but I love the freaks You don't wanna run up on a nigga in the club When I'm gone off that hypnotiq, henny and that buzz See, I'm a fool nigga, break the rules nigga I came to party, you wanna get stomped, thats on you nigga See, I'm a bEast boy, I'm from the streets boy You could knuckle up but Drumma got that heat boy I mean the feet boy, I'm Pistol Pete boy Stop screamin motherfucker, you ain't me boy <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Young Buck + (Master P)]</i> (Where you at Buck?) We got the weed spot poppin and the dice game crackin Got some hustlers with some birds and some young niggaz jackin This the hood baby, white t-shirts and the khakis Stomp stompin in my G-Units still Cadillac'n P, you know I been waiting to push a line with you dawg P, uou know I been waiting to use this nine with you dawg I'm on the grey goose, Huey Lewis Black Panther shit The whole club pumping they fist but here we go It's No Limit up in here, bitch you got damn right (Bitch you got damn right) We gonna act like C-Murder just got out of jail tonight Oh, we came to start a fight, break 'em off something rough Take it back to the streets nigga, make 'em say ughh (Make 'em say ughh) So me and Silkk The Shocker in a black Impala Burnin rubber in the third ward, ridin wit a chopper No matter what I been through, my bank account got it Fuck them other niggaz cause we still bout it bout it <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
| 14. |
| 3:51 |
|
|||
|
I've been tryin to call you baby, where you at?
I'm out here on the block thuggin After this, you ain't gon' have to want for nuttin, ya heard? I've been waitin' on you, for all night long Thinkin' 'bout what I'll do when you get home Boy I'll cook for you, massage you too And give you that freaky good lovin' if you want me to [Chorus:Repeat x4] It's all good shorty, this be the hood shorty Paradise straight up the road through the wood shorty Wanna take you to, paradise cause the hood is hot We done seen so many people in the hood get shot And I, don't wanna see my baby cry Anything happen to you I'm down to ride or die And, I know the kids come first But I love puttin' money in your Louis Vuitton purse, can you feel me? Girl you lookin' beautiful Let's get your nails done, on a plane or a boat You deserve the finer thangs Like Jaguars, minks, and diamond rangs A mansion with a big piano We can live like the Black Sopranos They say all good girls love thug niggaz I guess that's why I'm so in love wit'cha Let's ride, let's ride Me and you we can thug to the other side [Chorus] I want it, I want it I really really want it I'm gonna, put it on ya So tell me that you want it I need it, I need it I really really need it I'm gonna, put it on ya So tell me that you want it Put you in a bubble I Bentley with the matchin' top Hit the mall shawty, you can shop 'til you drop I told you I'ma change your world Designer names, you that kind of girl Diamond rangs with the Rolex You need a dress, Liz Claiborne can drop into the pro-jects You put my name on your body and I'm feelin' that You told me never let the hood hold you back You was there when I needed ya Now, I don't mind {?} pleasin' ya Girl we used to thug together On the block, even hit the club together Wakin' up to cool-Aid and Crist' Now you got the ice the size of Hershey's Kiss I went to jail, youse the first to come visit Now I'm home, anythang you want, girl go get it [Chorus] I want it, I want it I really really want it I'm gonna, put it on ya So tell me that you want it I need it, I need it I really really need it I'm gonna, put it on ya So tell me that you want it ------------- Lyrics Powered by LyricFind Written By HARDSON, TREVANT JERMAINE/STEWART, DERRICK LEMEL <i>Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing</i> |
||||||
| 15. |
| 4:37 |
|
|||
| 16. |
| 3:11 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Intro]</i>
No matter what you do my nigga It's not gonna be enough You tryna feed mothafuckas that always gonna be hungry If you feed the wrong mothafucka they gon' bite you But you know what, if you're really are real And you respect the game, niggas gon' respect you But if you're fake, niggas gon' play you like a bitch <i>[Chorus 3x]</i> This is for them thugs on block tryna hustle dawg It's for them girls in the game wanna break it off <i>[Verse One]</i> Most niggas wanna pitch in hight I'm so gutta so gangsta when I spit these rhymes I feel like I just did it big Nigga ten years later I still got these kids Most niggas aint keeping it real Ghetto Bill show these clowns how to the get these deals Jump off the (porch) and slang that rock Represent the south then made that pop And y'all niggas aint rememberin' me Then, y'all niggas must not be from the streets 'Cause my shit been in every car and every jeep From the south to the west, to the mothafuckin' east I got real gangstas ready to ride, I got real killas to ready to die All my gangstas throw your hands up high And y'all fake niggas run and hide Ya heard me <i>[Chorus 3x]</i> <i>[Verse Two]</i> From the job to the Ville My nigga keep touchdown on the Benz Sittin' ready for the (?) The new no limit got the block on high And every thug in the hood screaming ??We all we got??br>Niggas wasn't (movement) when we made it How you not gon' respect, (we coming for it that's how u gon' play it?) I talked to Soud how to flip them thangs And took a nigga from the west and put y'all up on game And took a nigga from Compton and scream my name (?) ice cream man Head nappy and twisted I'm still thugin' Straight from the hood they still love it And you boys aint got to give me props But I had taught you more then your pops, ya heard me The new no limit man we can't be stopped We brought the dirty from the bottom to the mothafuckin' top <i>[Chorus 3x]</i> |
||||||
| 17. |
| 4:01 |
|
|||
| 18. |
| 3:14 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Master P]</i>
I like a bad chick like, Martha Stewart that go to jail and holdin these streets down, Lisa Raye be a entertainer and still got a ghetto pass, Oprah Winfrey, Pimp TV and Paris Hilton get paid to play, that's how I like it <i>[Chorus: Master P]</i> I like a thug chick, I want a bad bitch <i>[repeat 8X]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> Give me a, country girl with tits like Ali <i>[wolf whistle]</i> Ghetto as fuck with a face like Halle In the club she likes to get rowdy And only fuck with thugs cause you know she 'bout it I like 'em black, Puerto Rican, white, Haitian Asian, Columbian, latino, Jamaican Attitude like Wendy Williams, a ride or die chick Thug girls in the club raise 'em up high miss Pussy pop for me, make it drop for me Be a lady on the block but keep it hot for me Go to school, go to work, talk proper Problems in the hood man shorty got the chopper Get your nails done, get your hair fixed Play it how it go, fuck it, ice up your wrists Be a thug chick, keep it real miss Tattoos, custom golds, you a boss bitch <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Halleluyah]</i> Look - mami in the club and she shakin like she workin Look - mami movin right, man I'm likin how she twerkin Man she do it all night, like she ride with a purpose And like Juvenile said, I need some mouth lip service - heyy Baby said she smokin, started lightin up the purple I ain't lyin, she a dime, from a hood where they merk you I said, fuck it man, I'ma take my chances She look good in that shirt, and them respect pants-es yeah Mami by the bar, every nigga wanna holla Buyin drinks, writin phone numbers a hundred dollars I'ma tell you like this, I ain't gotta do shit Cause she catch cold chills when she glance at the wrist - heyy Mami got the Louis with the Prada on her hip And them six inch heels got her flossin so sick And them Christian Dior's lookin good on her frame I like how you move, keep doin yo' thang <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P - fading out]</i> Do that dance <i>[repeat 4X]</i> Hey mahhhh, heyyyyy, okay! Do that dance <i>[repeat 4X]</i> Hey mahhhh, heyyyyy, okay! |
||||||
| 19. |
| 3:34 |
|
|||
|
Don't try this at home if you ain't no real hustler
I'm like Betty Crocker in the kitchen The Ice Cream Man back, you lil' boys been fuckin the game up But just watch and listen and you might get paid [Chorus: repeat 2X] Dope man, dope man - yeah that's me I can flip a half an ounce to a quarter ki' Dope man, dope man - yeah that's me I used to slang in the hood now I'm on TV [Master P] The first lesson in the cookin of dope You need water, bakin soda, P-12 and a stove Take a mayonnaise jar, put it in the pot Pour some cold water on it before the glass pop You see some liquid yeah don't po' that out Because that's the type of shit gon' get you a car or a house I mean, shake it up 'til the shit turn white And don't sell to no snitches cause that's 20 to life You can't trust nobody, not even your boo You got one pistol? Man get you three or two You can find us on the corner, man sellin that cream And we don't fuck with no weed 'less it's purple or green [Chorus] [Master P] I done made a lil' money and it's time to invest I bought some chrome spinnin shoes man the size of Shaq The Caddy needed paint so I dipped it in candy Put some ice on my wrists like I'm goin to the Grammy I'm a country boy so let the truth be told The last couple of these I brought a couple of gold I went to the club, got a couple of hoes Call me Ghetto Bill, I'm tryin to flip me a roll Handle that rock like I'm goin to the pros I got boys that'll tag ya toe Send money to the pen my homies doin the {?} I got it for 16-5 if you lookin for coke [Chorus] [Master P] I heard a couple of homies snitchin, they didn't want to go to jail Now you done changed my life, seen my boy get killed No mo' standin on the block with them nickels and dimes Ready to take it to the streets with these gangster rhymes I told Drumma, man mix me a beat We in the club shorty feelin the freaks I'm in the hood or I'm on TV You can't mention the South 'less you mention me Cause I'm the nigga put the Ice Cream in the dope game I'm the nigga put the UNNNNGH in the rap game I'm the first motherfucker to say "hot boy" And I could never fall off, cause I'll go back to slangin rocks boy I taught the world how to do dat dere So stop hatin man, I mean you right there I'm like, bad grass I ain't goin nowhere It's the New No Limit shorty this is our year [Chorus] |
||||||
| 20. |
| 3:17 |
|
|||
|
<i>[Chorus: Master P - repeat 2X]</i>
Where them thugs at - there they go Where them thug girls at - there they go Where them ballers at - there they go If you came to get buck then throw yo' hood up <i>[Drumma Boy]</i> I pull up at the club, drinkin and I'm gettin loose I'm V.I.P. I ain't thinkin how I'm gettin through I'm chillin with P and I'm actin the fool When your girl see the Tank then I'm snatchin your boo I'm in the 'llac, Halleluyah in the Coupe My dawgs in the back with the gats and the food Yeah - it's young Drumma, straight from the slums of where niggaz shine to stay on the come up Niggaz jealous from the ice on my neck Don't be alarmed nigga cause I'm nice with the tec Shorty lookin right in her dress When I took her home, skipped talk, right into sex Yep! I'm the truth, you the other man You think you're hot but I'll prove you're like an oven fan I got them broads sayin dude so wicked Straight from the South man, New No Limit, yeah <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Master P]</i> You can find us on the block with that rock boy I'm a New No Limit Soldier, not a hot boy Put my name on the ward, I'm a legend like Hook Posted up on the block with the killers and crooks Ghetto Bill could never be no stunna nigga What I got, cars for the winter and summer nigga You don't know me keep my name out your motherfuckin mouth 'fore I send some fuckin killers to yo' house And the game get real, so niggaz pack steel When some shit pop off you better get it how you live From the city, where we don't give a fuck about snitches We in the club V.I.P. finger fuckin some bitches So where them ballers at, shot callers at I'm like Warren G shorty, gimme alla dat Before I leave baby girl, you could slip me the digits And later on you could play with the lizard, you heard me? <i>[Chorus]</i> |
||||||
|
