(feat. Kane & Abel)

[Chorus x4: Master P]

Throw em up if you a soldier,
if you dodging these ^!$$%s, these (*##$es 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 mother$#&@er talkin %#@! and working with the rollers

You better duck down quick when the tank pops
Cause we be slanging automatic $#&@ing slangshots
I went from halves, to hoes with weed to working water

From selling grams, to mother$#&@in quarters
From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's
Not every ^!$$% in the hood knows me

Uhhhhhh, but getting rowdy
Stayin TRU to the game, and still bout it bout it


[Chorus]

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, ^!$$% Master P
A ghetto ^!$$%, 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 ^!$$%s in the ghetto live like Al Capone
I be breaking ^!$$%s like ice in Iceland
Crushing ^!$$%s 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 %#@! is real
And only cars get brand new grills


[Chorus]


[Kane & Abel]
Automatic gats for combat what we pack
Flip ^!$$%s 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
I'm cold bro, even sold my mamma a boulder
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 $#&@ till the world blow up

Game over, Kane and Abel, no limit soldiers

[Master P]

No Limit soldiers, I thought I told ya!

[Chorus]