Master P - No Limit Soldiers II Lyrics

Master P - No Limit Soldiers II Video

(master p)

Oh yea

It's christmas time nigga

Well muthaf**kin merry christmas and new years nigga (ha,ha)

Yall didn't think we was gonna do it again

Hah nigga what

 

Mp be my name

>from the ghetto to fame

Got them make 'em say ughhh (ughhh)

Got the world screaming my name

>from every soldier to soldierette

>from every killer to cadet

Playa hatas get wet

Tru niggas march playas step

 

(chorus)

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

No,no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

 

(c-murder)

I'm a muthaf**king no limit soldier

It's a mystery (what)

How us young black thugs made history

We be some tru niggas on the rise

And we gonna ball till we fall

Two shots to my dead niggas on the wall

Captain of a bunch a ghetto millionaires on the rise

And much respect like them muthaf**king wise guys

Tru tattooed on my back and arm hoe

And represent the south 3rd ward calliope

 

(fiend)

I dropped on the streets

Like cocked 9's or spray painted stop signs

Niggas gettin knock down

Needles in white lines

Second lines pity crimes

Down to a gun call all from a phone call

I done been through it all

Well you forgot my name fiend

And I don't f**k around

And soldiers show that there bowdy rowdy

When I come around

I'm mr. waump waump

The one tighter than some new j's

Bout getting some to plays

That get me funky for few days

 

(chorus)

We no,no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

 

(magic)

Yall remember me I'm the one they call mr. magic

Voted least to succeed but I'm back to let cha have it

Now I'm moving on y'all can't stop the tank I'm wit

If you f**k wit me be guaranteed bitch that your head gonna split

Ahhhhh shit

Who make y'all scream the loudest

Who dought it

That master p boys get rowdy rowdy and bout it bout it

Respect the tank or get your ass rolled over

By this 200 & 20 lb. 9th ward bulldozer

 

(mr. serv-on)

You bet it's me the only one to spell everything out

The nigga to snatch your muthaf**king neck

If you ain't got no muthaf**king respect

The soldier that been holding back for years

Cause niggas scared of my muthaf**king bite

P done let lossen up the streets

Believe me nigga you ain't leaving this mothaf**ker

Till everybody fight

Even if you don't want to

I'ma hit you punch you kick you

I'm the rowdiest muthaf**ker up in this bitch

And I'll love to get witcha

F**k you I'm wearing these leather support across my chest

So lower you tens if you don't respect

You know I'm from the 3rd bitch

You gone by casualty bitch

I'ma soldier

 

(mia x)

Rounding up my soldiers

Scooping up my warriors

Mobbin with these nolimit tru shot callers,street brawlers

All the nigga don't f**k around

We ain't gonna tear your club up

But we gonna shut the bitch down

Lyrically I drown soldier hatas

I'm the lady alligator

 

Take you shake you and bake you

Split your decision maker

Wake up fire starters coming harder

Than your father's fist

Like he caught your mamma's lips around the neighbors dick

It's the same bitch

Yall know her mama drama mia x hoes

You don't want no problems we soldiers

 

(chorus)

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

 

(big ed)

I hit you wit the left, right, left

Then a roundhouse kick

Nigga make some room back up back up

Bout to get right up in this bitch

Big ed the (assassin) watch me get my (blast on)

Then I (smash on) with my (mask on)

Full grown wit the brains blown

From my infamous spit

Then I f**k the shit out your old lady with my infamous dick

Get 'em up hit 'em up

My entourage in camouflage

When you hear (ooh ooh oh) get the f**k out of dodge

 

(silkk the shocker)

Mista!! n-o-l-i-m-i to the t

Second in command

When I get my demands

The only person that can stop it is p

No tattle tails so many bitches I had to kill

Grabbed my steal soldiers from the heart

No killa boy luck killa in my heart

On the battlefield f**k y'all what

Coming through spitting

Coming through hitting

Yall niggas hit the gates

Come through flipping

Picture a nigga

So now I'm coming to get you next

Nigga trained for combat

Bomb on contact we can play fair

Yall been warned sorry ones y'all can stay there

You can tell we some soldiers (right, right, right)

You can tell we some soldiers (when I say ahhh)

Everybody starts to fight! soldiers

 

(chorus)

We nolimit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We nolimit soldiers

I thought I told ya

No,no-no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We nolimit soldiers

I thought I told ya

 

(mystikal)

Left right left right

Muthaf**ker I been tight

Running from the breath fire coming from my windpipe

Bullet wounds pistol play muthaf**king fist fight

Hiding in the tent with a motherf**kin chim light

There go the tank there come the round

Throwing grenade get on the ground

You might just get up without your head

You looking for trouble and that's what you found

Take a long time look around tryin to find

These niggas ain't trying to respect our minds

Shoot us, and stab us, and kick us, and cut us

But can't f**k with us when we combine

Get you everytime put your foot on the mine

Flyin metal when it highly explode don't matter how you put it

When you are telling a nigga bout me

Let it be known I'm a motherf**king soldier!

 

(chorus)

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

No no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

No no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

(bitch get your mind right)

No no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

(bitch get your mind right)

We no limit soldiers

I thought I told ya

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Only Time Will Tell Lyrics

Master P - Only Time Will Tell Video

Master P

 

(Only time will tell nigga

When we die go to heaven or hell nigga) (4X)

 

When i die nigga don't wanna go to hell though

I been out here hustling trying to get dough

Got da game in my vein won't change

Little homies on the street know my name

Its the M-A-S to tha R-P

A young nigga tryin live in these ghetto streets

Would I die, would I roll, would i retire young,

Would a nigga get paid be the out come

Its strictly for the G's so a nigga ball

Thankin mama goddamn don't let your baby fall

I'm out here tryin to make me a little change

Stuck in this muthafuckin dope game

Would i lose tryin to keep my fuckin shoes

Would a young nigga see P on the news

I done seen rappers get their fuckin cap peeled

Say its mafia damn what a bad deal

So the game get hectic so i wanna cheat

Grab my gat kill off my enemies

I'd do fair time nigga but fuck that

I'd rather sleep, split a wig with my crome gat

Cuz I ain't goin less I take two niggas wit me

Niggas want P they better come and get me

I ain't hard to find it ain't a rhyme

Its gonna either be your soul or mine

 

(Only time will tell nigga

When we die go to heaven or hell nigga) (4X)

 

Niggas Die to make covers of magazines

I'd rather be unknown then dead and famous with green

The black hearse roll through da ghetto streets

I made the sign of da cross, glad it ain't me

Not fearing death, just not ready yet

Two stones to my brother, may his soul rest

Retaliation is a must fool (huh)

Some niggas don't play by no fucking rules

In this game get so deep so we gotta ride

Mama don't trip, don't even cry

When its my time to go then I gotta leave

But while I'm here I'm gonna drink henicy and smoke weed

Is there a heaven for a gansta niggas callin

Trying figure out if they up there ballin

My young niggas getting paid left da earth

Goddamn six feet now he's in da dirt

Church bells rangin hoes sangin

My nigga's up there for gang bangin

Slangin dope, pushin cocalies

Got me stressin down on my knees

Its a risky life wit a fast pace

But where soliders go when they get took away

 

(Only time will tell nigga

When we die go to heaven or hell nigga) (4X)

 

Sons of Funk

 

I seen angels crying so many soldiers dying

Tell me when will it end will I get to heaven

Will I see my friends or will i go to hell

Only time will tell

 

Mac

 

Head first in this world with my eyes impeel

Unaware that these niggaz on tha streets is real

Will i survive or will the cold streets shake me

Will them niggas break me before the lord take me out

This son of a bitch I never want it never asked to come

Trapped in a double face not a place to run

Get the gun and buck it let'em know I ain't the one to fuck wit

I stuck with this rough shit

Screaming tell god to make space them niggas killed my ace

And now they tryin make waste of my face

But I'm strapped up and only fifteen full of hatred

I couldn't be the next rapper faced with waste

Cemetary gates all black suits and limos

Family tears and flowers no more shows and videos

After parties hoes come to a cease

Young thug caught one slug rest in peace

 

(Ughhhhh)

(Only time will tell nigga

When we die go to heaven or hell nigga)

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Time To Check My Crackhouse Lyrics

Master P - Time To Check My Crackhouse Video

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)

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Is There A Heaven 4 A Gangsta Lyrics

Master P - Is There A Heaven 4 A Gangsta Video

Hah light ya lighta

Damn I done did some messed up stuff

Rest in peace Tupac

I wonder this my last weed I'ma smoke

This for all my dead homies

My last time ridin up in a fixed up car

Another soldier gone

With gold plates

Unhhhhhhh

My last bitch I'ma f**k is this the end?

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta gangsta gangsta UHHHHH!

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta gangsta gangsta, UHHHHH!

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta

Grew up in the ghetto, raised by killers T-R-U 'cross my stomach

Yo' neighborhood thug nigga, tryin to make it

Out this f**ked up environment

Where niggaz die tryin to make a dollar outta fifty cents

The ghetto got me crazy, I smell daisies

But I can't die tonight my old lady's pregnant with a baby

Tupac said there's a heaven foe a G

But I wonder if there's a restin place for killers and gangsta niggaz

Like me

Me f**ked never lost my life and sold my soul to the devil

I hope I die in my sleep but the noise it's gonna be a

One-eighty-seven

Ain't no turnin back I'm strapped with two chrome gats

I see death around the corner (damn, run) my time to go I'm ready to

Black

Cause I'ma soldier, gone off that doja

Ain't no cryin at my funeral I lived life to the fullest as a high

Roller

So when I die, put me in a pine box

Bury me like a G two glocks and a f**kin bag of rocks

And open up clouds for these strangers

Before you take me Lord tell me

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta

Look into the eyes of a killa, neighborhood drug dealer

From ghetto, hero swore he wouldn't be the next nigga

 

To lose his life in this dope game cocaine

He told me don't trust nobody; his best friend was the trigga man

I see tears in his sista and his momma eye

His old lady stare at the casket askin God why

The church is full of killers, and drug dealers

Bangers, and motherf**kin cap peelers

Six of his homies carried him to the hearse

First time that he even been to church

Damn, now he's in the dirt

Pourin out beer for my dead homey

A bunch of rest in peace t-shirt with his motherf**kin picture on it

This nigga lived f**kin rowdy, and if he gotta die

He don't give a f**k cause this nigga, been BOUT IT

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!

This goes out to all y'all motherf**kin soldiers

True niggaz, high rollers, No Limit niggaz, gangstas

Caviar niggaz, niggaz that dyin with motherf**kin badges on they

Casket

Niggaz that's dyin in this rap game

All y'all real niggaz

Or should I say this new wave, dope game

Y'all feel this, all y'all niggaz dyin in the pen

All y'all real niggaz that lost niggaz

I'ma strike y'all nigga with some game

All y'all real bitches that lost niggaz

Ain't nuttin mo' precious than life

Gangsta niggaz and gangsta bitches

Gangsta niggaz in the Ward, Baton Rouge

Go pout some beer out for y'all thug niggaz

All y'all niggaz on Death Row

Lake Charles, Shreveport, New Mexico

R.I.P. nigga

Mississippi, Texas, Alabama, Atlanta

Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!

Indiana

*fades*

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Goodbye To My Homies Lyrics

Master P - Goodbye To My Homies Video

Master P

R-I-P homie, R-I-P

 

Sons of Funk/Mo B. Dick

How do I say goodbye to what we had

The good times that made us laugh outweighed the bad

I thought we'd get to see forever

But forever's gone away

It's so hard to say goodbye to my homies

 

Master P

Ya'll need to smile for my ghetto heroes nigga

 

So many homies gone, trying to ball till they fall

Now I'm left with nothing but old cards

And a bunch of pictures on the wall

R-I-P tatoos nigga, just to show you that we real

But I still can't believe that your dead fool, and how you got killed

And on your birthday me and my boys visit your grave

And I remember when you first got high

And the first time you got laid

And I'm going through a thing, Kevin nigga, what should I do

I never imagined living life without a nigga like you

 

Sons of Funk/Mo B. Dick

(Cause it's so hard to say goodbye to my homies )x2

 

Master P

We shed so many ghetto tears, see time is crazy

And every sunday grandma go to church

She said she gotta pray for her baby

And ah, your little son, he look just like you

And momma going through a thang, but she gonna pull it through

And ah, me, C and Silkk, we got all the money but that don't mean shit

Cause I burn all that shit up nigga, just to have you again

And it's real out here, all you niggas that's goin through some pain

Keep your head up, and this for everybody that lost a relative in the street

Game

 

Sons of Funk/Mo B. Dick

Cause it's so hard to say goodbye to my homies

And it's so hard to say goodbye to my homies

 

Silkk The Shocker

Now look, I couldn't imagine life without you

I just sit here and wonder why

But the law of life, and god placed us here

And said everybody must die

Aint it hard trying to move on, but still I try

Even though we got money, judgement day

Just some things we can't buy

Even though you gone, I never let you move on

Cause every time i think about you

I sit back and write your name in a song

Now ashes to ashes, and dust to dirt

It's kinda spooky when I see your face on a t-shirt

I just pray to god it's hard wishing it would get better

And watch it, cause death or funerals bring our family together

Now look, we done lost a brother, your son done lost a father

Life ain't promised us so tell somebody you love them

You'll never know if they'll be here tommorow

 

Sons of Funk/Mo B. Dick

Cause it's so hard to say goodbye to my homies

And it's so hard to say goodbye to my homies

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Never Ending Game Lyrics

Master P - Never Ending Game Video

Check this out playas

All y'all gangsta 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 homey on the ground crying

I'm thinking I'm gone, Oh my lord

My little homey 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 mama 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

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Ride Lyrics

Master P - Ride Video

Picture this nigga me a ghetto millionaire

And all my fucking enemies evaporated (evaporated)

Only the real can feel me (only the real)

 

Let's ride this one's for the killers and dealers

Still bout it bout it nigga now the world gone feel it (3X)

 

Stomach pains in the ghetto and I'm starving

But picture me a third ward nigga ballin'

A house on the lake and one on the hill

Imagine in a ferrari worth millions in dollar bills

If the game won't change me these niggas won't tame me

This bitches won't bring me and everybody blame me

Niggas gettin' paid started from the streets

If a nigga don't hustle then mama don't eat

I live my life with some thugs I run with killers and G's

Tech-nine and Oz's gone off hennessy and weed

 

Chorus (2X)

 

I'm asking ya'll a question who makes these white laws

And all the taxes I pay why don't the government protect superstars

They couldn't save Biggie and what about Tupac

My little brother C-Murder went to jail with AP-9 and two glocks

This ghetto got me trapped these fiends drivin' me crazy

I'm duckin' dodgin' the police penetetionary and daisy

Protected by soldiers live my life smokin'

The ghetto bottles are broken and cast popped open

Nobody want to die young but everybody gotta go

So pass me the stress release cuz even Bill Cliton smoke

 

Chorus (3X)

 

Nigga we riders (riders) for every fucking one of us they take

We takin' a hundred of them

We gonna make some motherfuckin' statements too now

But you know what that we mortalizin' together and comin' together

And we diein' together it ain't no game niggas soliders black power

'til death do us part nigga for every nigga they take we gone make 100 more

To multiply ya'll niggas multiply niggas like gremlins nigga

Warden make millions (nigga we don't make dope they make dope)

If all ya'll niggas talkin' to the feds tryin' to get a nigga locked up

Then ya'll know a nigga that changed his whole attitude

Changed his whole motherfuckin' game nigga we too motherfuckin' legit to quit

So ya'll read about that and ya'll motherfuckin' media

That want a nigga to war this rap wars and shit niggas don't kill niggas

The media kills niggas I feel your pain Suge Knight nigga Death Row Records

No Limit motherfuckin' records (could be anyone of us) niggas unite

They don't want niggas to make it out of the ghetto

Take chances and opportunites to all ya'll fucking niggas out there

Livin' like guppies ya'll know No Limit niggas we wet gyuppies up

(wet'em up) ya'll remember that this is from the motherfucking last dizon

Now this is for all my No Limit soldiers from the south to the west

To the east to the motherfuckin' north let's ride niggas

Real niggas don't die we multiply nigga gotta pack some heat cuz

That's the only way he gone protect himself I don't give a fuck if I

Just got off parole nigga I'm gonna protect me and mines nigga

You protect you and yours

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Ooohhhwee Lyrics

Master P - Ooohhhwee Video

Master P

Weebie! Holla at me (c'mon)

I got like twelve bottles of bubbly (oh)

 

Chorus One 2X: Weebie

I like it when she shakes it in that thong OOOHHHWEE!

The way she make it twurk and grab the wall OOOHHHWEE!

Oh, baby you know whatchu doin OOOHHHWEE!

No Limit got the steps bouncin and movin OOOHHHWEE!

 

Master P

I know a big girl, with a ironed skirt

Give her couple dollars, she'll make it work

I mean holla at me whoadie, you know our crew large

Our fantasy's to have sex wit two broads

On a boat or a plane or exotic cars

Bring it to the next girl, bring the toys

On the dance floor, shawty started takin it off

Took her to the V.I.P., started breakin me off

Cause she knew I was a baller by my iced out wrists

I told her Wait, it don't stop, keep drinkin the Cris'

I'ma country boy just like the dukes of hazzard,

See a fine chick, you know I'm gon' grab her

Elly May girl where you at?

This No Limit boy tryin to do that thang

I said Rock the boat, don't let it sank

It's time to go to war, I got the tank

 

Chorus One

 

Master P Say that then

 

Weebie

I could work, put ya body, c'mon back it up, back it up

You know Weebie and Master P, we gon' tank it up, tank it up

Turn around to the ground, you know how it goes

Catch the flow, tippie-toe, come and wobble some mo'

Like you know how I do it so don't act surprised

For a fact gotchu dancin 'til you hurtin your thighs

Now won'tcha tune it up and wobble wit it

Act a fool and wobble wit it

Won'tcha make it hustle, ooh baby don't pull a muscle

Gotcha workin on the wall 'til you run outta breath

No Limit like I told ya so y'all give us respect

Now you could shake it like a dog, break my fuckin balls

Do it how ya do it, lemme see ya take it off

 

Chorus One

 

Chorus Two: Weebie

Now won'tcha rock, rock on, rock, rock on, rock, rock on

Rock, rock on, rock, rock on, rock, rock on, rock, rock on, rock

Now won'tcha turn around and hustle wit it

Back it up and hustle wit it, test around and hustle wit it

Ooh baby ooh baby

 

Master P

Mary had a big ol' butt them tight a*s*s jeans and shorts

And every club that Mary was at then thugs was sure to go

That mean she had the bo-legged wit the curves just like a bottle

Project chick but pretty just like a model

When I'm rollin through the hood she loved thugs

Don't mind gettin in and shakin her thang in the club

I mean, beat bopper she loved the tote shoppers

Call her head nurse then I'ma be the doctor

A real country mamma cook grits and eggs

And she don't leave the farm except to get laid

Candice on twaps cause she love the ball

Thought she had the nizzle on the dresses at the mall

Buyin, high heels and some leather boots

And lookin for them ballers wit the crazy loot, WHAT?!

 

Chorus One

 

Chorus Two

 

Master P over Chorus Two

Where them No Limit boys at? Throw them 'bows

Them No Limit girls, get money and what?

Told y'all clownz ain't no stoppin us

Putcha Gameface on when ya watchin us

 

Master P (Weebie)

East side (OOOHHHWEE!), Mid West (OOOHHHWEE!)

West coast (OOOHHHWEE!), Dirty South (OOOHHHWEE!)

The ghetto clique (OOOHHHWEE!), No Limit! (OOOHHHWEE!)

Haters off, can't stop us, can't stop me (OOOHHHWEE!)

Y'all, know, where we be (OOOHHHWEE!)

Somebody tell valet to bring my Bentley

I'm about to (?) wit a couple these poppers y'heard?

The party's not over, OOOHHH-WEE-WEE!

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Master P - Mr. Ice Cream Man Lyrics

Master P - Mr. Ice Cream Man Video

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.

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Rock It Lyrics

Master P - Rock It Video

Master P and 5th Ward 5th Ward Weebie

No Limit

I'mma make y'all have it for a minute

But we want it back for the next 5 years

Hit the dancefloor, whodi!

 

5th Ward Weebie

The new No Limit baby (haha)

Respect it or check it (aha aha)

Master P, 5th Ward Weebie

 

Master P

Krazy

 

5th Ward Weebie

You got to rock the boat

Rock, rock, rock the boat

Rock, rock, rock the boat

And do the P-town Mo

Rock, rock, the boat

Rock, rock, rock the boat

Rock, rock, rock the boat

And do the P-town Mo

 

5th Ward Weebie

Ooh ooh baby come on you can wobble wit it

Ooh ooh baby come on you can hustle wit it

Do the P-town Mo, get cocky wit it

Put ya hands in the air don't stop wit it

 

Ooh ooh baby come on you can wobble wit it

Ooh ooh baby come on you can hustle wit it

Do the P-town Mo, get cocky wit it

Put ya hands in the air don't stop wit it

 

Master P

They call me the Ghetto Bill got the keys to the city

Hit the club for the girls lookin' pretty

Big butts with them little-bitty waist-es

Ghetto fab but looks just like a waitress

Rip on her name was Son-ya

Roxanne, Monique I put it on-ya

It ain't No Limit to the change I got

You see the Bentley on the 20's in the parking lot

 

Krazy

Hennes-sy and trees, that's-all-I-need

Back-it up, don't stop

Hit-the floor, make-it drop

 

5th Ward Weebie

Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

It goes left, right, left, right

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right

 

5th Ward Weebie

Ooh ooh baby come on you can wobble wit it

Ooh ooh baby come on you can hustle wit it

Do the P-town Mo, get cocky wit it

Put ya hands in the air don't stop wit it

 

5th Ward Weebie

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

Weebie ain't gonna stop cause I know what ya want

Put a hump in your back and lift your rump

Now bring it around the world won't you jump for me

Bounce bounce baby baby make it jump for me

Where your head go at when you want it from the back

Them No Limit Souljas got you shakin' it like that

You can dance if you wanna do it if you wanna

Move it in a circle and put that thing in the corner

Shake if you wanna shake-shake baby

No Limit not givin you a break baby

Now make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

 

5th Ward Weebie

Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

It goes left, right, left, right

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right

 

5th Ward Weebie

Ooh ooh baby come on you can wobble wit it

Ooh ooh baby come on you can hustle wit it

Do the P-town Mo, get cocky wit it

Put ya hands in the air don't stop wit it

 

5th Ward Weebie

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

 

Master P

We all thugs but I ain't gonna hurt nobody

Make it shake girl work that body

I want one thick like Bubblicious

That can clean the house and do the dishes

I'm lookin for a girl that can twurk

A thug chick that can put in work

Handle business with a mini-skirt

Jump suave with a P. Miller purse

Handle business on the dance floor make it twurk

Drop it like a dog then make it jerk

If I was in it they'd call me Don Juan

Gettin' cash then chickens is no crime

V.I.P. is Crys' and Moet

Still thuggin' T-shirts and sweats

Ice cube on my finger 10 karats

I can swing a bat and break a record like Barry

 

5th Ward Weebie

Now Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

Rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat, rock the boat

It goes left, right, left, right

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right

 

5th Ward Weebie

Ooh ooh baby come on you can wobble wit it

Ooh ooh baby come on you can hustle wit it

Do the P-town Mo, get cocky wit it

Put ya hands in the air don't stop wit it

 

5th Ward Weebie

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

Make that thing whistle

Move around and whistle

Twurk for that thing don't stop it till ya whistle

 

Master P

Put your Game Face on

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - If I Could Change Lyrics

Master P - If I Could Change Video

Fast livin' got me trapped in this street game

Before i die i hope i have a chance to make a change

4x

 

I'm at the time in my life when a nigga ready to change

I'll be dead or in jail if I don't shake this thang

Feel like I'm trapped in a prison, slowly waiting to die

It's getting harder for my people, yet we don't know why

They cuttin sistas off welfare, these kids can't eat

And it's the children like P turned out by the street

I couldn't see it while I was outside slangin my rocks

Servin death to my people, commitin the ultimate evil

Robbin and killin my own kind, Lord forgive me

Blinded by this life of crime, God somebody hear me

Since the death of my momma, my life is filled with drama

Lost both of my kids, punished for what dirt that I did

I can't bring em back, so I get high to forget

All the mistakes that I made, that time won't let me erase

I keep my head up high, but I'm stuck in this game

Steady checkin' myself, God help me to change

 

Chorus 4x

 

If I could change, I'd bring my momma back from the grave

I ain't got too much trouble cause we livin' in the last days

Crime pays, doing broads can get you AIDS, gotta wear a strap these days

All the time I stay high, trying to fight my stress

Jealous fool of the world trying to put me to rest

Last night I had a talk with my momma

Then the cry, asking god if she'd serve a purpose before she dies

You can see it in my eyes, a brotha wanta slow down

I ain't mad at ya daddy cause you didn't come around

I'm knowing that the times is hard, but you can make it

You see the opportunity, you take it

But what about my little baby, I got a mouth to feed

But I still wanta hang on the streets and smoke weed with the O.G.'s

My homies rest in peace in the game

I don't think you'll ever know the pain

I want to change

 

Chorus 4x

 

Lord knows, picture me ballin

Trapped in this ghetto with my young G's callin

Hennessey 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 chrome trigga

Never had a pops, a nigga learned to slang cream

Should have been a chemist, the way I work a triple beam

Life, is like a page, I want to turn

I wanta make a change, but Lord you let my brotha burn

I done seen a nigga lose his life over zurcubian stones

Every night, my auntie bring a nigga home

Momma worrying cause the rent late

3 strikes, my cousin's doing time upstate

I sent him Camel with no filters

I'm in the ghetto slangin stones with staight killas, ugghh

I know kids that pack gats cause they bout it, bout it

I'm from the murder capital of the world and we rowdy, rowdy

Is there a heaven for a gangsta, Lord put me to sleep

Cause your best friend turn into your enemy

Crooked cops is dirty in this shaded game

Go on take me out the ghetto

I want to make a change

 

Chorus -- fade out

Read Full Lyrics »

Master P - Poppin' Them Collars Lyrics

Master P - Poppin' Them Collars Video

Snoop Dogg & (Master P) talking

Hey yo (Ghetto Postage)

Give me something that makes a nigga wanna pop his motherfuckin' collar

(With a lil' West Coast twist on it)

(Master P and Snoop, ha ha, tah dow, poppin' collars

 

Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs

Pop those collars

Pop those collars

Pop those collars

That's the just the way we do it

Pop those collars

We changed the game

 

Snoop

Slid up in the door, get up in ya ho

Sippin' on some Mo with Big D from the mad ass 6-0

Stretched out on the couch with some Mary Jane

Doghouse nigga, we all in the same game

An every nigga in my click got the platinum chain

Blang, blang Doggy's Angel's same thang

Eastsidaz same thang, rip riders ask my nephew Kokane

 

Master P & Snoop together

Cause game recognize game and we got it

No Limit and Dogg Pound, we rowdy, get em' up

We bang bang

 

Snoop

On this music that we make ho

In the cars, the clubs, or when we smoke dope

We drop that shit for you kin folk

And poor folks no joke, loc loc

Blaze a sack loc, bust a back stroke

And pop ya motherfuckin' collar till ya break ya back loc

 

Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs

 

Master P

Ah dog we off the heezy

Snoop and P together for cheesy

Poppin' collars from the South to the Wizest

We off, see the tank around our nizeck

We O.G. show me love

And the Baker Boys started the buzz

Now we California livin' like Dre and Pac

And them No Limit boys, see we can't be stopped

Me and E-Feezy go way on the bizack

Remember Baby D, TRU it and Prizack

My essay homie, chop chop got the dizope

While me and Xzibit was ballin' by cizoast

I'm the black Slim Shady so don't try to play me

Turn a six into a Bentley and drive em' crazy

Roll up to Eastside back to the West

Represent Richmond, California to the South, respect

 

Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs

 

Snoop

I'll bless you before I diss you

Y'all miss me, shit I miss you

So sweet, so sure but so low

So just let it all go, serious we sick of this

Dog homie, ask ya kids they put chu' up on it

On the corners they poppin' they collars

While back in the days, shit niggas used to stack they dollars

Make a nigga wanna holler

Playas, pimp, p-poppers, impersonators

Real rip riders, Eastsidaz and regulators

Haters come in all shapes, sizes and colors

But we on top of thangs so they can't get above us

Hate us or love us, we rollin' with the heat huggers

Thuggers, house party niggas fuck clubbers

With anine in my pockets, poppin' my collar pushin' and shovin'

 

Hook with Master P & Snoop ad-libs to fade

Read Full Lyrics »