Soldierz

<br>feat. Sticky Fingaz, X-1<br><br>[Chorus: Fredro Starr]<br>I`m a soldier, ready for war, ready to shoot<br>I`m a warrior, ready to die for my troops<br>I`m a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe<br>I`m a hustler, hustler, hustler, hustler<br>Told ya, ready for war, ready to shoot<br>I`m a warrior, ready to die for my troops<br>I`m a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe<br>I`m a soldier, soldier, soldier, soldier<br><br>[Fredro Starr]<br>We play the block to the morning til the sun comes up<br>Or fiends run out, hustle til them guns come out<br>Or deans run out, hustle til them ones stack up<br>Or boys roll up, we playin the block, you know man<br>Niggas on the rock talkin bout the cars we roll<br>Chickens in the club buggin on the money we blow<br>Other People baby, gettin like a hundred a show<br>When they see us, bitches pass out, they holdin the flow<br>Man haters don`t wanna see the next man bowl<br>What the little nigga skippin in the Lexus for<br>We in it for the hed, killa what that vest if for?<br>Two stacks, glocks hiddin in my Lexus dough<br>Now ya wanna see the ice wit the electric blow<br>They rather see shots flamin, not to test the row<br>Then we love by the minute, but we feared by more<br>Cuz I don`t give a fuck, I`m ready to die, ready to go<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>[X-1]<br>I`m a soldier, ain`t that right, ain`t that what I am?<br>On the block yellin &quot;two for five`s&quot; wit rocks in my hand<br>Keep the money rolled in rubber bands, accordin to plans<br>Dirty pots in the kitchen nigga shoppin in grands<br>While Ms. Brenda from upstairs always callin the cops<br>Stash rocks in the mailbox, them corners is hot<br>Find a dumb bitch, get a crib, open up shop<br>Blow it up for two months, then skip to the next spot<br>This is a business man, don`t mess wit that here<br>Who can fuck around and plus ya still love in the air<br>And that`s a nice little toy ya got, let`s raise that<br>Put ya title on the line, big baller, let`s bet that<br>I don`t need trees, nigga, all I need is them G`s<br>Money`s my high, dollar signs stuck in my eyes<br>Don`t come to this strip, bitch, unless you comin to buy<br>It`s nothin to hide, drug dealers lovin they lies<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>[Sticky Fingaz]<br>I come thru the block, niggas hold they breath<br>They heart pump fear, they stand there, hold they chest<br>My name speak for it self, kid you know the rest<br>From outta the dark, Sticky speakin codes of death<br>Do you know how much bloods been spilled on my name?<br>Unless you walk in my Timbs you can`t feel my pain<br>Got no feelings for you niggas, ice chill in my vein<br>Besides the millions in the bank account, I`m still the same<br>Seen my own father slain, ain`t dropped one tear<br>If you died right now, you think I`d fuckin care!?<br>I`d get everybody in this bitch, stuck up in here<br>And all that war right now, is where ya blood gets smeared<br>Rappers gettin shot up, brr, it`s cold out there<br>I guess niggas was really dyin, or blow that year<br>Wit God as my witness, I end ya career<br>Cross my heart, hope to die, and all my life I swear<br><br>[Chorus 2X]