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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 Letras de cancionesHave 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* From Letras Mania