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Текст песни 504 Boyz - Holla

504 Boyz - Holla слова песни




[Chorus]: Master P {Choppa}Them boys on that block holla (ooh ooh)Them girls that got it hot holla (ooh ooh)If ya runnin` from them cops holla (ooh ooh){Holla...} (ooh ooh) {Holla} (ooh ooh)[Verse 1]: Master PCall me trashman cuz I put it up and backWhodi owe me money I`ma bust his fuckin` assI`m allergic to Dr. Pepper, so pass me Dr. CristaleHit me on the two-way, whodi, I get wit`chaPut it on the stove, bake it like a pieTake it to the hood, slang it 16-5When niggas snort it boy, they be passin` it to they girlsWrap it up in Ziploc, back it up and twirlSend money to the pent. Mac and C be home soonBitches start snitchin` I`ma send `em to the moonI could sell a hoe a green, front a hustler a lakeI could never fall off, I`m the "Ghetto Bill" Gates[Chorus][Verse 2]: Curren$yThese lil` niggas can`t take it anymoreI push through the club iced out, low key with my P. Miller galoreHoes breakin` down the doors, uhhBecause the 504 Boyz here they can`t wait `til we get onIt`s Curren$y the motherfuckin` rookie of the yearThis ain`t the WNBA, ain`t no pussies over hereYeah, I`m makin` figures fuckin` with the Ghetto BillAnd a truck with some rims that`s bigger than Ferris wheels, holla[Chorus][Verse 3]: KrazySee this No Limit army nigga, that`s my KliqThe hoe that you tongue kissin` used to be my bitchFor these sayin` they`ll slay a nigga, they called pricksAnd this brown shit I`m sniffin` nigga, it got me sickAnd this big truck I`m pushin`, nigga, my tight whipWith a chop of lead on the seat, that`ll make you flipMy alias, believe me, Doc HollidayIf it`s beef, I`m like AIDS, I`ll never go away[Chorus][Verse 4]: Master PI might be something sly but I won`t forgetTell Double X-L they can, suck my dickI might be country but I`m ghetto richAnd when it comes to grindin`, I started this shitI put the G in Ghetto, nigga, call me Ghetto FabStarted with some quarters then I flipped it to some halvesPut the Coke in Coca-Cola, no baking sodaCall me Pistol P, cuz I slang them granola`s[Chorus][Verse 5]: T-BoI guess them thangs just got dropped off, the block`s hot like hot sauceSome cop cars keep passin` I promise y`all they not lostConvicted felons noticed when they tryin` to knock ya socks offGo braggin` to them hatin` bitches, find how much ya watch costLoose lips, sank ships, bitch, so watch what you sayin`It`s the New No Limit, baby, got us under surveillanceAnd the Feds ain`t playin` they kickin` down doors dailyAin`t this a bitch, I just got off probation[Chorus][Verse 6]: MagicI`m tryin` to get me a whole chicken (chop it down for the dimes)Then flip that bitch quicker than I (flip these rhymes)Now I`m on two birds I`ma flip (one more time)And I`ma cop the bitch you left behind(I`m tryin`, I`m hustlin`) don`t trust me when I`m brokeAnd I don`t discriminate I want the money and a goatYeah, better hope I wait, I`m ass out (things will get bloody)(Four to ya tummy, real messy and ugly)[Chorus][Outro]: Master PIf ya East Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)If ya West Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)If ya Midwest thuggin` holla (ooh ooh)If ya Down South hustlin` holla (ooh ooh)

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