backup off me歌詞
Uh, ah, da
(Are you ready for this) Err
The Ice Cream Man
(Are you ready for this)
Its bad like my high
(Are you ready for this )
ERRR, my No Limit Soldiers, trademark
Get em up ugh, show ya domes, T-R-U
We TRU, ugh, ugh
Time to go to war, ugh
(Master P )
Im posted up on the block, got these killers runnin you sick of this
And chicken nuts, niggas slangin with cuts
Ready to bust on you cluckers
On you niggas that sick cause we sicker
Niggas slangin flickers
Im in the projects ballin with my niggas
Im hustlin quarters and thirty sacks
Niggas aint fuckin with dirty sacks
Im hustlin I got those ball sacks
But yall niggas dont know that
Im the mad killer, murder, lunatic
You fuckin with a nigga that dont give a fuck about you
Or your bitch cause Ill go like psycho, ha ha ha
Like Michael , load this fuckin rifle
Start blastin at bitches motherfucker, yeah cause Im a psycho
Out that 3rd ward, Calliope killin murder
Lunatic, havent you heard of a nigga not playin with a full deck
Break ya neck, hustle on ya check
Get cho get cho neck broke
Fuckin field cats and chat
No Limit nigga, real nigga, who
Dont give a fuck when you dead and gone
Motherfucker you feel my bucks from my chrome
(Hook)
UGH! back up off me, feel me ugh
Feel it, back up off me, my trademark
Ugh, feel it back up off me, ugh
(Master P)
Gon pack me with a nigga with no bread
Nappy head, put chu in a grave
Dont give a fuck about chu niggas, piss on ya forehead
Im from that Southside, we kill with that cut rock
But niggas they slangin that hoo rock
But niggas they wanna boo dock, that buddha
Nigga a quarter, of water
But yall niggas late cause I done took over New Orleans
In the Southside to the Westside to the Eastside to the Northside
Motherfuckers never realize the young gon die on the streets
Im killin murder, the lunatic
Never givin a fuck, Im tryin to make bucks
Before I leave this truck
Got these killers watchin me
Niggas not pockin me
V got that tech nine and Man got that uzi
Big Boz come with rah rah, niggas with sah sah
KR hooked up the track so what the fuck yall didnt realize
We back to takin the battle, scattle not rattle
Get my tic tac and make ya motherfuckin head rattle
Like an ostrich, nigga you want some sausage
Meet me in the French Quarter
Im kickin it with them 3rd ward hustlers
And they bout it, niggas we rowdy
Never givin a fuck, we started this bout it, bout it
Now why yall sayin yall bout it bout it
Yall scared of me, yeah yall scared of me
Bitch talkin shit, you and ya bitch I aint afraid of ya
Im hustlin got them ballers, niggas we smokin them quarters
Fiends be dippin that water but we hustlin like it aint no tomorrow
(Hook)
(Master P)
Niggas comin wicked, fools Im gon kick it
Be whippin niggas ass like Im cookin greasy chicken
Ill pop off batter but niggas they wanna scatter
Niggas they talkin shit, I be runnin with them 17 round automatics
Up the trees, watch them niggas freeze
Dont give a fuck, take off my shirt nigga
No Limit on my back, back
But niggas they pullin that sack, sack
TRU against my stomach motherfucker how yall gonna fade that
The real fuckin click, aint no love for yall dubs
Niggas think we slangin dubs
Nigga we slangin tapes to you niggas across the world
Niggas that squirrel, I got that girl
My lil partner got boy, got the whirl
But I dont give a fuck cause I be sick like Suzy
Take these 32 round clips from my automatic uzi
Run and duck nigga you fried
Aint no love where Im from, from the outside to the inside
The projects from uptown to downtown
To across the river
Niggas slangin that dope motherfucker get cho head twisted
In the river, you gone, aint no love meet the chrome
I be in the project ballin like the black Al Capone
And if you come sick you stupid
Cause my click dont give a fuck cause they ready to shoot shit
Up but nigga you better duck nigga
Before you find your body floatin up the Mississippi River
( Hook repeated to end with various ad-libs)
(Are you ready for this) Err
The Ice Cream Man
(Are you ready for this)
Its bad like my high
(Are you ready for this )
ERRR, my No Limit Soldiers, trademark
Get em up ugh, show ya domes, T-R-U
We TRU, ugh, ugh
Time to go to war, ugh
(Master P )
Im posted up on the block, got these killers runnin you sick of this
And chicken nuts, niggas slangin with cuts
Ready to bust on you cluckers
On you niggas that sick cause we sicker
Niggas slangin flickers
Im in the projects ballin with my niggas
Im hustlin quarters and thirty sacks
Niggas aint fuckin with dirty sacks
Im hustlin I got those ball sacks
But yall niggas dont know that
Im the mad killer, murder, lunatic
You fuckin with a nigga that dont give a fuck about you
Or your bitch cause Ill go like psycho, ha ha ha
Like Michael , load this fuckin rifle
Start blastin at bitches motherfucker, yeah cause Im a psycho
Out that 3rd ward, Calliope killin murder
Lunatic, havent you heard of a nigga not playin with a full deck
Break ya neck, hustle on ya check
Get cho get cho neck broke
Fuckin field cats and chat
No Limit nigga, real nigga, who
Dont give a fuck when you dead and gone
Motherfucker you feel my bucks from my chrome
(Hook)
UGH! back up off me, feel me ugh
Feel it, back up off me, my trademark
Ugh, feel it back up off me, ugh
(Master P)
Gon pack me with a nigga with no bread
Nappy head, put chu in a grave
Dont give a fuck about chu niggas, piss on ya forehead
Im from that Southside, we kill with that cut rock
But niggas they slangin that hoo rock
But niggas they wanna boo dock, that buddha
Nigga a quarter, of water
But yall niggas late cause I done took over New Orleans
In the Southside to the Westside to the Eastside to the Northside
Motherfuckers never realize the young gon die on the streets
Im killin murder, the lunatic
Never givin a fuck, Im tryin to make bucks
Before I leave this truck
Got these killers watchin me
Niggas not pockin me
V got that tech nine and Man got that uzi
Big Boz come with rah rah, niggas with sah sah
KR hooked up the track so what the fuck yall didnt realize
We back to takin the battle, scattle not rattle
Get my tic tac and make ya motherfuckin head rattle
Like an ostrich, nigga you want some sausage
Meet me in the French Quarter
Im kickin it with them 3rd ward hustlers
And they bout it, niggas we rowdy
Never givin a fuck, we started this bout it, bout it
Now why yall sayin yall bout it bout it
Yall scared of me, yeah yall scared of me
Bitch talkin shit, you and ya bitch I aint afraid of ya
Im hustlin got them ballers, niggas we smokin them quarters
Fiends be dippin that water but we hustlin like it aint no tomorrow
(Hook)
(Master P)
Niggas comin wicked, fools Im gon kick it
Be whippin niggas ass like Im cookin greasy chicken
Ill pop off batter but niggas they wanna scatter
Niggas they talkin shit, I be runnin with them 17 round automatics
Up the trees, watch them niggas freeze
Dont give a fuck, take off my shirt nigga
No Limit on my back, back
But niggas they pullin that sack, sack
TRU against my stomach motherfucker how yall gonna fade that
The real fuckin click, aint no love for yall dubs
Niggas think we slangin dubs
Nigga we slangin tapes to you niggas across the world
Niggas that squirrel, I got that girl
My lil partner got boy, got the whirl
But I dont give a fuck cause I be sick like Suzy
Take these 32 round clips from my automatic uzi
Run and duck nigga you fried
Aint no love where Im from, from the outside to the inside
The projects from uptown to downtown
To across the river
Niggas slangin that dope motherfucker get cho head twisted
In the river, you gone, aint no love meet the chrome
I be in the project ballin like the black Al Capone
And if you come sick you stupid
Cause my click dont give a fuck cause they ready to shoot shit
Up but nigga you better duck nigga
Before you find your body floatin up the Mississippi River
( Hook repeated to end with various ad-libs)
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