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    [Master P]
    Chorus x4
    Throw em up if you a soldier, if you dodging these niggas, these bitches and
    the rollers

    The clock hits twelve, I'm on the grind
    Punching your code if you want these nickles, quarters and dimes
    I got the ghetto soed up like mack diamonds and windy
    And I got more sealers than JC Pennies
    Throw it up if you a soldier
    But if you a punk motherfucker talkin shit and working with the rollers
    You better duck down quick when the tank pops
    Cause we be slanging automatic fucking slangshots
    I went from halves, to hoes with weed to working water
    From selling grams, to motherfuckin quarters
    From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's
    Not every nigga in the hood knows me
    Uhhhhhh, but getting rowdy
    Stayin TRU to the game, and still bout it bout it

    Chorus x4

    I'm a represent my hood till I die
    And when I'm gone put it on the blimp and let it ride
    Third ward, calliope, nigga Master P
    A ghetto nigga, live and made history
    Aint no mugging, just thugs with me
    Aint no hugging, aint no loving P
    These ghetto heroes is dead and gone
    That's why niggas in the ghetto live like Al Capone
    I be breaking niggas like ice in Iceland
    Crushing niggas like sevens in dice games
    Nickel plated meters knocking down doors
    With hoes and gators, jaboes and polo's
    So watch your back when you hustling crack
    Cause jackers take your life away and aint no coming back
    Uh, I seen alot of movies, but this shit is real
    And only cars get brand new grills

    Chorus x4

    [Kane & Abel]
    Automatic gats for combat what we pack
    Flip niggas like flapjacks, with oz's and crack
    We killing with tatooes our guns and balls
    The car with the tek-nine in my droor
    Went from selling double up's to going double platimum
    For selling crack and, jack and gun clapping and rapping
    Watch me smoke my little weed, got my drink and bud
    What's up to all the slangers, the bangers, bloods and cuz
    I was a soldier, I still remain a soldier
    A cobra, even sold my mamma a bowl a
    Down a fifty of hennesee and blow a bag of doshia
    Quarter keys with five G's which a hustle for D
    Now selling gold LP's, that's a hustling for cheese
    G's don't give a fuck till the world blow up
    Game over, Kane and Abel, no limit soldiers

    [Master P]
    No Limit soldiers, I thought I told ya!

    Chorus 4X

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