Master P Ghetto Postage It Don't Get No Better f/ Black Felon Thanks MDaLastDon@aol.com for these lyrics. (Master P) Whoah! Oh No! Don't be scared! It aint over til its over nigga. A good soldier prepare for war in a time of piece ya heard me? Where my niggas at? OVER HERE WHODI! Where my bitches at? OVER HERE WHODI! I want ya'll to raise them motherfuckin soldia rags high ya heard me?! What?! (Chorus) X 2 Nigga it don't get no better, me and my souljas gonna stick together Rich or poor, poor or rich, No Limit is da army and we wont quit (Master P) I see a lot of thugs souljas lose they boots in tha mud He was only 19, now he doin time for drugs Now aint that a bitch, lil' shorty used to rhyme But now he sittin in a cell droppin quarters, nickels & dimes Once your dawg gone, then tha cat gonna play I seen lil momma in tha club shakin that ass everyday Now she telling me she need some milk for the kids Now if that wasn't my dawg, u know a player'd be hittin it See some of these hoes are bitches too And I would front on my dogs for no bitches or no loot (Chorus) X 2 (Black Felon) What? What? What? What? My definition of riches is much different Make it hard to swallow But I'm vicious, and who gonna stand in front of this 200 lb Rottweiler? My mission, no competition, kill'em all like roaches Wit more niggas on my team, and we all some soldiers I'm re-adjustin you nigga's focus, ya'll see tha game crooked No nigga that I know could take tha game where I took it Black Felon still yellin habitual offender Ya'll niggaz better keep a distance from the rath of this blender I was born without a heart, so I live off game If I get tempted then I can flip it, nigga I breath pain (Chorus) X 3 |
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