A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


"Here We Go"

Chorus: Master P (repeat 2X)

Here we go, Here we go, Here we go (BE BOUT YO BUSINESS)
From the south, to the west, to the mid, to the east coast

Verse One: Master P

I got heroin and cocaine
Some call me the dope man, a young n*gga havin thangs
A thug like 2Pac
Went from cheddar to cheese, from powder to cooked rocks
From the ghetto to the lakes
(to the lakes, 3rd ward, Caliope)
Slangin' thangs in the hood to move my records to 54 states
Got more work than the mayor do (mayor do)
It stick to n*ggas that talk sh*t
Like a baller they b*tch hair blue
Got more corns than fritos
Got more hoe's than Macys sell muthaf*ckin Girbauds
Keep the muthaf*ckin party jumpin (uhh, bout it, bout it)
For puttin the south on the map like Eazy-E did Compton
Hoo-ride with these gangbangers (gangbangers)
No Limit Soldiers, mercenary killas keep one up in the chamber
_Got it Made_ like Special Ed
Got more _Vapors_ than BizMarkie ever had
After _Dead Presidents_ like Eric B
_Hypnotize_ the rap industry like Biggie
Going _Federal_ like E-40
Shock the world like Silkk, put my pockets on tilt
Puttin fools _On Hold_ like En Vogue
Used to slang white ice cream, now its platinum and golds

Chorus 2X

Verse Two: Mystikal

Without no business
Its over for you before you get out the door
What the f*ck they gon tell you for if you don't already know
Huh n*gga thats all on you to be on top of yearn
But by the time they finish f*ckin you, b*tch you gon learn
Ain't no f*ckin favors, ain't no f*ckin friends
That sh*t don't mix, this business
Be bout yo paper, yo royalties or them b*tches will take ya
Make sure yo contract is escilatin' otherwise them b*tches will rape ya
Makin big promises on how it's gonna be all good just and be patient
Yo album done came and gone and you stupid ass still waitin
Stackin paper off my work
Them no good son of a b*tches got me livin for concerts
I done headlined every hole in the wall in and out the city
Humble cause I'm gonna believe it was meant for me
I'ma get it, makin moves but still somethin missin
f*ck how good you rap it ain't sh*t without yo business
No business

Chorus 2X

Verse Three: Fiend

I could end the world with one line
But I chose to make these hoes suffer
Fill the voice with no muffler, I's a bad motherf*cker
Uncover, unleash the beast, dangerous from head to feet
Can't control my rhymes, because them b*tches seep through
My teeth, so cold I heats, rising like some yeast, bake some beats
Meltin needers off of technique and thats just when I speak
Seek and you should find that my mind is beyond
And yall n*ggas lines behind the times of my first lines
sh*t I'm in my prime, I want it with the mic or the nine
For mine it protects crimes to the blind (he ain't lying)
And I ain't dying line goes the paper the chase
P done gave me the break for me to make some cake
Still dope I cook in sake, got pretty ass hoes to bake
Thats definitely a dumb n*gga lure, you wanna smoke
Cause this business makin me a weed conniseur
Meet the have-been, one of the last men on this note
Who wanna get served by the n*gga, the nerve at the throat
You think you bad but b*tch you never had
A n*gga to give more heart attacks than Fred Sanford had

Chorus till fade

(Master P talking)
To the motherf*ckin south (the south)
To the west (to the west)
To the mid (to the mid)
To the motherf*ckin east (to the east)
To the world (to the motherf*ckin world)
No Limit, here I come whenever we want to
September 2nd, get the f*ckin world high
Bout my motherf*ckin business, ha ha
Master P, Young Fiend and Mystikal
Uungh!, bout it bout it

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2017-2019 Lyrics.lol