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Master P |
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Ghetto D |
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Throw Em Up |
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f/ Kane & Abel |
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[Chorus: Master P (4X)] |
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Throw em up if you a soldier, |
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if you dodging these *******s, these ******* and the rollers |
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The clock hits twelve, I'm on the grind |
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Punching your code if you want these nickles, quarters and dimes |
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I got the ghetto soed up like mack diamonds and windy |
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And I got more sealers than JC Pennies |
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Throw it up if you a soldier |
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But if you a punk mother******* talkin ************t and working with the rollers |
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You better duck down quick when the tank pops |
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Cause we be slanging automatic ******g slangshots |
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I went from halves, to hoes with ****** to working water |
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From selling grams, to mother****** quarters |
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From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's |
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Not every ******* in the hood knows me |
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Uhhhhhh, but getting rowdy |
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Stayin TRU to the game, and still bout it bout it |
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Chorus |
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I'm a represent my hood till I die |
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And when I'm gone put it on the blimp and let it ride |
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Third ward, calliope, ******* Master P |
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A ghetto *******, live and made history |
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Aint no mugging, just thugs with me |
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Aint no hugging, aint no loving P |
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These ghetto heroes is dead and gone |
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That's why *******s in the ghetto live like Al Capone |
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I be breaking *******s like ice in Iceland |
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Cru************ng *******s like sevens in dice games |
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Nickel plated meters knocking down doors |
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With hoes and gators, jaboes and polo's |
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So watch your back when you hustling crack |
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Cause jackers take your life away and aint no coming back |
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Uh, I seen alot of movies, but this ************t is real |
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And only cars get brand new grills |
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Chorus |
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[Kane & Abel] |
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Automatic gats for combat what we pack |
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Flip *******s like flapjacks, with oz's and crack |
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We killing with tatooes our guns and ******* |
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The car with the tek-nine in my droor |
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Went from selling double up's to going double platimum |
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For selling crack and, jack and gun clapping and rapping |
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Watch me smoke my little ******, got my drink and bud |
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What's up to all the slangers, the bangers, bloods and cuz |
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I was a soldier, I still remain a soldier |
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I'm cold bro, even sold my mamma a boulder |
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Down a fifty of hennesee and blow a bag of do************a |
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Quarter keys with five G's which a hustle for D |
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Now selling gold LP's, that's a hustling for cheese |
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G's don't give a ******* till the world blow up |
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Game over, Kane and Abel, no limit soldiers |
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[Master P] |
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No Limit soldiers, I thought I told ya! |
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Chorus |
