Master P lyrics

This is for the Burbans and the Cadillacs With the 10's and the 12's bumpin in the back This is for the playas hustlas pimps and macks With the Benz's makin ends I'm makin paper stacks This is for the Burbans and the Cadillacs With the 10's and the 12's bumpin in the back This is for the playas smokin woolimacks Hittin skins make dividends and ridin with my strap UNH woodgrain with the leather seats Windows so dark you need a flashlight to see me Smokin on that dojah four niggas in tha back screamin NO LIMIT SOLDIER True to the giz-zam stopped in the projects Sold a half a ounce of cocaine Hit interstate 10 into TEXAS listenin to DJ SCREW Just raced the Lexus called up Pimp C Did a song last week with my nigga Bump B Twistin on some green spinich A nigga still trippin I aint dead I'm still in it This is for the Burbans and the Cadillacs With the 10's and the 12's bumpin in the back This is for the playas hustlas pimps and macks With the Benz's makin ends I'm makin paper stacks See pocket full of dollas already stacked So I'm gangtsa leanin sideways Today aint Friday pretend it is and today it's my day Take it from Mr. High spoke rider Cadillac and Suburban driver pussy diver Mr. Glock beside me when I'm ridin Flossin down the block holla at my boys up in the third I got the latest word swirve to the side of the curb Fiend that wanted me to serve her I said: "Bitch can't tell I'm off ?" But I still give her five dollas to wipe my whitewalls Then I burst up out the block Drop the top cuz it was hot Shit hit the spot where the most hoes at At the side show about to plot Hittin doughnuts and you know I'm actin a straight up menace Catch me spinnin and you can tell I was there Cuz the cloud of smoke when I finish I seen 5 - 0 and they aint even try to sweat me Think they bein nice nah Cuz I got 185 under the hood and they know they cant catch me And if you see me chillin you can stop me And I keep that glock 40 on my dash You never know who might not be And this is for the playas Playa play on I can't hate you homey Playa play on I can't hate you homey Burbans and Lacs mansions and bitches money and weed The made life it's all I dream Paper chasin for the green I'm thuggin on the scene Nigga what you don't believe? well check the credentials They'll tell ya a nigga's livin presidential I'm on a level that you bustas would never feel Thought I I'd get cought up in the game and get killed Reverse that shit and hit the studio and make a mill For real I'm slangin platinum shit until I'm old and ill Like Gotti Imma make you feel what I say I got time to parlay chill off in the bay and smoke some hay I wouldn't have this shit no other way the made life The game tight No Limit for life This is for the Burbans and the Cadillacs With the 10's and the 12's bumpin in the back This is for the playas smokin woolimacks With the Benz's makin ends I mean the paper stacks 2 x Playa play on I can't hate you homey You rollin on chrome and candy Get This Ringtone

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