Текст песни 504 Boyz - Holla | Слова песни 504 Boyz - Holla | Тексты песен 504 Boyz

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Holla

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Жанры : rap hip-hop hip hop state property dipset

Видео: 504 Boyz - Holla

[Chorus]: Master P {Choppa}
Them boys on that block holla (ooh ooh)
Them girls that got it hot holla (ooh ooh)
If ya runnin` from them cops holla (ooh ooh)
{Holla...} (ooh ooh) {Holla} (ooh ooh)

[Verse 1]: Master P
Call me trashman cuz I put it up and back
Whodi owe me money I`ma bust his fuckin` ass
I`m allergic to Dr. Pepper, so pass me Dr. Cristale
Hit me on the two-way, whodi, I get wit`cha
Put it on the stove, bake it like a pie
Take it to the hood, slang it 16-5
When niggas snort it boy, they be passin` it to they girls
Wrap it up in Ziploc, back it up and twirl
Send money to the pent. Mac and C be home soon
Bitches start snitchin` I`ma send `em to the moon
I could sell a hoe a green, front a hustler a lake
I could never fall off, I`m the "Ghetto Bill" Gates

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]: Curren$y
These lil` niggas can`t take it anymore
I push through the club iced out, low key with my P. Miller galore
Hoes breakin` down the doors, uhh
Because the 504 Boyz here they can`t wait `til we get on
It`s Curren$y the motherfuckin` rookie of the year
This ain`t the WNBA, ain`t no pussies over here
Yeah, I`m makin` figures fuckin` with the Ghetto Bill
And a truck with some rims that`s bigger than Ferris wheels, holla

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]: Krazy
See this No Limit army nigga, that`s my Kliq
The hoe that you tongue kissin` used to be my bitch
For these sayin` they`ll slay a nigga, they called pricks
And this brown shit I`m sniffin` nigga, it got me sick
And this big truck I`m pushin`, nigga, my tight whip
With a chop of lead on the seat, that`ll make you flip
My alias, believe me, Doc Holliday
If it`s beef, I`m like AIDS, I`ll never go away

[Chorus]

[Verse 4]: Master P
I might be something sly but I won`t forget
Tell Double X-L they can, suck my dick
I might be country but I`m ghetto rich
And when it comes to grindin`, I started this shit
I put the G in Ghetto, nigga, call me Ghetto Fab
Started with some quarters then I flipped it to some halves
Put the Coke in Coca-Cola, no baking soda
Call me Pistol P, cuz I slang them granola`s

[Chorus]

[Verse 5]: T-Bo
I guess them thangs just got dropped off, the block`s hot like hot sauce
Some cop cars keep passin` I promise y`all they not lost
Convicted felons noticed when they tryin` to knock ya socks off
Go braggin` to them hatin` bitches, find how much ya watch cost
Loose lips, sank ships, bitch, so watch what you sayin`
It`s the New No Limit, baby, got us under surveillance
And the Feds ain`t playin` they kickin` down doors daily
Ain`t this a bitch, I just got off probation

[Chorus]

[Verse 6]: Magic
I`m tryin` to get me a whole chicken (chop it down for the dimes)
Then flip that bitch quicker than I (flip these rhymes)
Now I`m on two birds I`ma flip (one more time)
And I`ma cop the bitch you left behind
(I`m tryin`, I`m hustlin`) don`t trust me when I`m broke
And I don`t discriminate I want the money and a goat
Yeah, better hope I wait, I`m ass out (things will get bloody)
(Four to ya tummy, real messy and ugly)

[Chorus]

[Outro]: Master P
If ya East Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)
If ya West Coast thuggin, holla (ooh ooh)
If ya Midwest thuggin` holla (ooh ooh)
If ya Down South hustlin` holla (ooh ooh)

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