Master P Dead Presidents Lyrics:
hahahahaha
that nigga Master P back in the house for the 9-5 shot

well take a step into this madness
that we call the dope game
Richmond, California where us youngstas slang that cocaine
and we be hoppin it up and choppin it up and rockin it up
to tens, twenties, fifties, and
hundreds to make our profits bro
roll through the town talking shit, get your wig split
especially when fucking with another niggas divendends
I mean them George Washington, them
Lincoln, Hamilton, Jefferson,
Grant, Ben Franklins
find your ass in the trunk with your
motherfuck corpse stankin, haha
the ghetto's trying to kill me
and if you live to see 95 most of ya'll fools can feel me
come take a ride in my 6-4
I'm not Dr. Dre but Richmond, California's death row
you got niggas packin heat
and fiends on every corner trying to make them ends meet
and the game get thicker
when you think its all good
down bows another nigga
to the grave 6 feet deep
I've never seen a man cry but I'm not Scarface G
but I've seen alot of niggas die
Richmond, California the town of the homicide
got me caught up in a shuffle
sellin crack to my people, just an everyday hustle
I'm too deep to quit
cause the game giva a young nigga like me profits

dead presidents
still trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents
dead presidents
still trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents

blood shot red eyes off that dank gettin toasted
khakis wear up creased motherfuckin shirt half way open
and on my stomach spells T-R-U
that's my click motherfucker, in other words that's my crew
that jumped out this game of crack
to get into this game of rap, to put us on the map
and we aint takin no shorts
independent worlwide and us niggas hella roll
gettin paid like the bank, cook it up like crank
distribute it to the world like some motherfucking dank
but there's always some sucka ass busta playa hatin
mother fucker runnin up talking bout you all that nigga
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you can't rap nigga, insane fool on crack
I get more bitches than you, fools cock 22
I cock A-K's make niggas run for they duece
and them blue signs is thicker
cause when you think it's all over, I be the bounty picker
wiping niggas up like soap, niggas can never go
when you fools was fadin, I was sendin niggas to death row
committin homicides and drive-bys
livin with ?????
but still slanging that fuckin pie
and got more bitches than you
so what the fuck you runnin on my set
talking that hoe shit fool
and No Limit only means the beginning
cause when the other niggas is fading
we just beginning
got more juice than ojay
got more four than fourplay
got more game than M.J.
and like Cube say today will be a good day
25 G's for a key
hook it up and meet King George, 23rd street
straight up A-1 sola, no yola, hella folda
ain't no motherfuckin soda, cook it up like grenola
and we bout to chop the top off
this motherfuckin fire bird, ???????
oh, and them hoes is the side show
and bustas gettin beat down
niggas ain't from the town, hoes gettin clowned
and we sicker than sickery
tricker than trickery
catch you slippin bitch than you history
cuase I got a bunch of niggas that shoot it up for with me
I got a bunch of killas watchin out for P
and the game get deep
how can you stop when these niggas out to get your green
you gotta watch your ass
and if you rollin on them thangs nigga,
you better watch real fast
and watch close to your enemy
cause it might be the same nigga sittin right next to you G
and the game gets sad
6 feet deep might be lying your dog ass
trying to get that cash, trying to move fast
but don't tell a nigga where your stash

you know what I'm saying if ya'll in the game
to all my niggas out their in the game
ya'll know how it go, watch your motherfucking ass
stack more money than you can and get out quick, if you can

(chorus plays as P talks)

yea, I got to say whats up to all my
niggas out their in the Rich
know what I'm sayin
all my niggas out there in Oakland, Frisco
and all them hustlas thats rollin with me
the TRU click, King George, C-Murder, Calli-G, Silkk, Big Ed
and ya'll know the Ice Cream Man is outtie 5,000

got to say what up to K-Lou for
whippin this ol' dope ass shit
Lyrics: Dead Presidents, Master P [end]