Throw Em Up

Master P

Composição de: Kane & Abel/Master P
Featuring Kane & Abel] 
[Master P] 
Chorus x4 
Throw em up if you a soldier if you dodging these niggas these 
bitches and 
the rollers 
The clock hits twelve I'm on the grind 
Punching your code if you want these nickles quarters and dimes 
I got the ghetto soed up like mack diamonds and windy 
And I got more sealers than JC Pennies 
Throw it up if you a soldier 
But if you a punk motherfucker talkin shit and working with the 
rollers 
You better duck down quick when the tank pops 
Cause we be slanging automatic fucking slangshots 
I went from halves, to hoes with weed to working water 
From selling grams, to motherfuckin quarters 
From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's 
Not every nigga in the hood knows me 
Uhhhhhh, but getting rowdy 
Stayin TRU to the game, and still bout it bout it 
Chorus x4 
I'm a represent my hood till I die 
And when I'm gone put it on the blimp and let it ride 
Third ward, calliope, nigga Master P 
A ghetto nigga, live and made history 
Aint no mugging, just thugs with me 
Aint no hugging, aint no loving P 
These ghetto heroes is dead and gone 
That's why niggas in the ghetto live like Al Capone 
I be breaking niggas like ice in Iceland 
Crushing niggas like sevens in dice games 
Nickel plated meters knocking down doors 
With hoes and gators, jaboes and polo's 
So watch your back when you hustling crack 
Cause jackers take your life away and aint no coming back 
Uh, I seen alot of movies, but this shit is real 
And only cars get brand new grills 
Chorus x4 
[Kane & Abel] 
Automatic gats for combat what we pack 
Flip niggas like flapjacks, with oz's and crack 
We killing with tatooes our guns and balls 
The car with the tek-nine in my droor 
Went from selling double up's to going double platimum 
For selling crack and, jack and gun clapping and rapping 
Watch me smoke my little weed, got my drink and bud 
What's up to all the slangers, the bangers, bloods and cuz 
I was a soldier, I still remain a soldier 
A cobra, even sold my mamma a bowl a 
Down a fifty of hennesee and blow a bag of doshia 
Quarter keys with five G's which a hustle for D 
Now selling gold LP's, that's a hustling for cheese 
G's don't give a fuck till the world blow up 
Game over, Kane and Abel, no limit soldiers 
[Master P] 
No Limit soldiers, I thought I told ya! 
Chorus 4X
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