Текст песни Master P, C-Bo - Headin` 4 the Jack
Master P, C-Bo - Headin` 4 the Jack слова песни
[C-Bo]Woke up at dawn got a page at five tenHead still spinnin` off that Gatorade and ginStumbled to the bathroom, picked up my mobile phoneHit power plus the digits now I`m waitin` for roamUm shook my dick and on the line came Master P[Master P]I said what up Bo, I got a lick on some keysAnd we gon` do this shit like G`s so meet me in the BayI quarter mill in caine fool, so bring ya HKAnd get cho` gloves cause you gonna get cho` hands dirtyLeave them fools trippin` I mean cold turkeyAnd bring yo gat cause we gonna break em` to they kneesAnd like you say Bo rat-heads get nothin` but cheeseAnd don`t forget to bring an ounce of that sticky dankSo we be high as a bird as we hoo-ride on this gank[Hook x3: Master P]Headin` for the jack, strapped with the fat gatBo and Master P down to rat-tat-tat-tat[C-Bo]Got off the phone, been on for a half-hourDropped my draws hopped off and took a showerStepped out, put on my Guess and some K-SwissBacked my Regal off the grass on to the pavementHit I-80, west bound to Rich TownStrapped with the HK-40 ready to put that track downSpittin` that fire and niggas be retirin`Runnin` up for application when some niggas ain`t hirin`I`m on a mission, takin` mine and gettin` yoursLike I settled for, it`s nothin` but that hardcoreMe and Master P done hooked up on a murder hitTwo niggas hoppin` off in the drop-top straight servin` shitSo fools, break yourself drop me off or get dealt withAK cocked, one pop will make ya belt ripI`m in it to win, can`t no nigga get away from the murder one rapAnd we out to get some so it`s best if you ride around with ya strap[Hook x3]Dope in the car, they let the dogs loose to hound meI`m headin` for the county, a hundred g`s for my fuckin` bountyCause I`m a killer with no heartMass murderin` fools bout to amputate they body partsLike Jeffrey Dahmer, that ain`t no dramaSo here`s yo ghetto pass, a one-way ticket to the BahamasAin`t no love bitch, I thought chu` knew meI sit with this ho and these 32 kids, that nickel-plated uziMaster P and Bo is headed for that big jackMovin` to get cho` face cracked, infrared to yo backShould I shoot, get him for his lootNo wait might hit him for his whole motherfuckin` suitShoot em` up bang bang, gotta let my nuts hangLettin` off rounds in my candy painted MustangHit a lick for some snow and did a drive-bySliced it up and slanged it up on the setlike some Muslim bean piesHit the highway with Bo back to the 916Left the 510 cause we gon` double up to 26Bumpin` 2Pac, motherfuckin` "Thug Life"Reminicin` on our dead homies all fuckin` nightIt was a drought so we crawdadI mean up the price cause this shit was movin` too fuckin` fastGats cocked for the jackersRollin` with the shackersGot this ho in the back talkin` shit, I just might smack herPull over sideways I had to let the top downDank comin` out the car like steam comin` off the groundNow we on our way to BurbankTo the 213 and like B-Legit say it`s gon` take three tanksSo pull this motherfuckin` hog to the Philly stationStart the grapevine, seen this fool slippin` on triple gold Daytons[Hook x3][C-Bo]Doors down, got an extra clip for the HK fifteen roundsAdrenaline pumpin` as I lay everybody face downShould I kill them, no fill the bagHe had more cash stashed off in the drop JagSlammed his hand in the door, torture will make him speakCocked my hammer, jammed my barrel through his fuckin` teethGot him coughin` up, pissin` bloodCause a ballin` ass nigga didn`t show no loveNigga, motherfuckers be gettin` they head twistedYa best homeboy done turned into a rat, snitch, bitchGot cha` jacked slapped caught up in the rat packWhile some niggas in all black, in some fake D.A. hatsJumpin` out of rental cras, up on ya front yardRunnin` through yo front door holdin` the four-fourYellin` jack time, crack mindsAnd put this shit on record cause I can back mine[Hook with various ad-libs to fade]