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  • Текст песни Master P F/ Fiend, Mystikal - 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 nigga havin thangs
    A thug like Tupac
    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 niggas that talk shit
    like a baller they bitch hair blue
    Got more corns than fritos
    Got more hoe's than Macys sell muthafuckin Girbauds
    Keep the muthafuckin 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 fuck they gon tell you for if you don't already know
    huh nigga thats all on you to be on top of yearn
    But by the time they finish fuckin you, bitch you gon learn
    Ain't no fuckin favors, ain't no fuckin friends
    That shit don't mix, this business
    Be bout yo paper, yo royalties or them bitches will take ya
    Make sure yo contract is escilatin' otherwise them bitches 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 bitches 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
    Fuck how good you rap it ain't shit 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 motherfucker
    Uncover, unleash the beast, dangerous from head to feet
    Can't control my rhymes, because them bitches 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 niggas lines behind the times of my first lines
    Shit 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 nigga 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 nigga, the nerve at the throat
    You think you bad but bitch you never had
    A nigga to give more heart attacks than Fred Sanford had

    Chorus till fade

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