[Hook x3]
Tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cent(s)
How come when I was broke you wasn't brown nosin'?
[Master P]
See it's a f**ed up life that I'm livin' in
Hit that slang cola cause I didn't have no dividends
My baby mama stressin' she don't want me to slang dope
The ghetto's tryin' to k** me which way should I go
Now I'm on the corner takin' penitentiary chances
Even though there's marks on my turf that can't stand me
Think to myself, when should I leave
'2' say f** em' and continue hit my weed
I guess I'm a G about my scrilla cause they dashin'
Fools know that P is quick to put em' in the casket
The game got me stressin' but the P ain't gon' stress out
Even though the task just raided a n***a's house
Took a loss in the game tryin' to bubble up
Find the P deep in the grind slangin' a dope fiend's double ups
And pretty soon I'll be back to a hoe thing
And if I had to do it again I'd probably do the same thing
[Hook x3]
[RBL]
Man it ain't nothin' but a thang to let yo nuts hang
Cause in this game a million n***as striving for the same thang
I know it be like on, on my block
n***as must be on the cell while another on the short stop
It won't stop and it won't quit
Tell me another quick way for a n***a to check a grip, sh**
I'm kinda in a rush, it's kinda like a must
To get some "In God We Trust"
Bein' broke sure ain't no joke
Cause I barely got enough money to buy me a whole loaf
And n***as be spendin' money like record
So I moved from Mike Chester to Girbaud pocket, check it
Cause a lesser n***a's out there singin' "Shoop"
Or playin' hoops, he ain't gon' never see no size or no quick loot
Dank costs ten and the drank costs five
So I gots to have more in my pocket than a nickel and a dime, b**h
[Hook x3]
[Master P]
Gold fronts in my mouth, hella dope and got my bags tight
b**hes on my dick cause they know the P rags are tight
But I ain't trippin' off no hoochies with no lil' skirt
I'd rather deal with them Turks, puttin' in work
They caught up in some dirt
Cause I'm the Ice Cream Man droppin' off hella loads
Vanilla, stawberry, cherry b**h I even got Rocky Road
Take yo pick, I know you dope fiends wanna lick
But that's gon' cost you twenty bones, (in) case you hoes want a hit
I love you, you love me
But this ice cream don't go for free
It's a ten, twenty, fifty, hundred dollar sack a cone
And if you ain't spendin' bring yo broke a** home
Gold ones on my vehicle, fools they can't see me though
Tens for twenty, n***a that's plenty meet me at the liquor store
Fiends want credit but cha' know I can't fade ya
And when you get yo' cash together call me on my pager
I'm stressin' off the game, I barely get sleep
I just had to bury my little partner last week
In and out of alleys gettin' chased by the 5-0
I gotta get my hustle on, my way of survival
And if I get caught I got played
But I ain't goin' out without two stones to the head
[Hook to end]