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504 Boyz
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1
[Chorus]: Master P {Choppa}
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Them boys on that block holla (ooh ooh)
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Them girls that got it hot holla (ooh ooh)
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If ya runnin' from them cops holla (ooh ooh)
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{Holla...} (ooh ooh) {Holla} (ooh ooh)
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[Verse 1]: Master P
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Call me trashman cuz I put it up and back
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Whodi owe me money I'ma bust his fuckin' ass
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I'm allergic to Dr. Pepper, so pass me Dr. Cristale
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Hit me on the two-way, whodi, I get wit'cha
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Put it on the stove, bake it like a pie
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Take it to the hood, slang it 16-5
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When niggas snort it boy, they be passin' it to they girls
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Wrap it up in Ziploc, back it up and twirl
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Send money to the pent. Mac and C be home soon
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Bitches start snitchin' I'ma send 'em to the moon
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I could sell a hoe a green, front a hustler a lake
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I could never fall off, I'm the "Ghetto Bill" Gates
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 2]: Curren$y
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These lil' niggas can't take it anymore
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I push through the club iced out, low key with my P. Miller galore
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Hoes breakin' down the doors, uhh
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Because the 504 Boyz here they can't wait 'til we get on
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It's Curren$y the motherfuckin' rookie of the year
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This ain't the WNBA, ain't no pussies over here
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Yeah, I'm makin' figures fuckin' with the Ghetto Bill
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And a truck with some rims that's bigger than Ferris wheels, holla
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3]: Krazy
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See this No Limit army nigga, that's my Kliq
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The hoe that you tongue kissin' used to be my bitch
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For these sayin' they'll slay a nigga, they called pricks
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And this brown shit I'm sniffin' nigga, it got me sick
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And this big truck I'm pushin', nigga, my tight whip
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With a chop of lead on the seat, that'll make you flip
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My alias, believe me, Doc Holliday
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If it's beef, I'm like AIDS, I'll never go away
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 4]: Master P
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I might be something sly but I won't forget
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Tell Double X-L they can, suck my dick
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I might be country but I'm ghetto rich
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And when it comes to grindin', I started this shit
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I put the G in Ghetto, nigga, call me Ghetto Fab
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Started with some quarters then I flipped it to some halves
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Put the Coke in Coca-Cola, no baking soda
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Call me Pistol P, cuz I slang them granola's
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 5]: T-Bo
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I guess them thangs just got dropped off, the block's hot like hot sauce
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Some cop cars keep passin' I promise y'all they not lost
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Convicted felons noticed when they tryin' to knock ya socks off
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Go braggin' to them hatin' bitches, find how much ya watch cost
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Loose lips, sank ships, bitch, so watch what you sayin'
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It's the New No Limit, baby, got us under surveillance
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And the Feds ain't playin' they kickin' down doors daily
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Ain't this a bitch, I just got off probation
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 6]: Magic
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I'm tryin' to get me a whole chicken (chop it down for the dimes)
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Then flip that bitch quicker than I (flip these rhymes)
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Now I'm on two birds I'ma flip (one more time)
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And I'ma cop the bitch you left behind
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(I'm tryin', I'm hustlin') don't trust me when I'm broke
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And I don't discriminate I want the money and a goat
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Yeah, better hope I wait, I'm ass out (things will get bloody)
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(Four to ya tummy, real messy and ugly)
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[Chorus]
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[Outro]: Master P
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If ya East Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)
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If ya West Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)
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If ya Midwest thuggin' holla (ooh ooh)
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If ya Down South hustlin' holla (ooh ooh)
504 Boyz - I Can Tell
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