Yo it's 1992 and master p is back up in this motherf**er
(yo man lets do this sh** right, man. if everybody plays right, then put yo
Right hand over yo heart, and let yo left hand grab yo nut. now everybody
Sing along, b**h.)
(stop the music!)
We are the world
We are the dealers
We are the ones that sell crack c**aine
So let's start sellin'
There's a fiend in every hood
Dumb fiends that bring they pipes
It's truly n***a betta then
That's why we dealin'
(c'mon everybody)
We are the world
We are the dealers
We are the ones that sell crack c**aine
So let's start sellin'
(talking muffled by loud beats)
Check this out fool
I'm at this party
These two b**hes lookin' hella pretty
I walk up and kiss 'em each on they f**in' t
I say "your hole there - it's about to explode"
I took a gat to her a** & she took off her clothes
In other words i be movin' fast like a pick...pocket
See- i'm a mother-f**in' maniac i gotta top it
I talk to the b**h ... before i k** 'em
I'm like a psycho like charles manson - the blood drilla'
I take yo life and take yo arms and cut the b**hes off
And play a bloody mother-f**in' game of golf
And break your arms, your legs i shoulda did it sooner
Reach in yo stomach - pull out a piece o' tuna
I guess you're dead, you're ghost, you gotta go
You untested, cause damn they like arrested codes
For a dead b**h - ya give some good head
Ya must be on yo period - 'cause my dick is bloody red
I left it in you
I see you face - ya about ta cry
But before ya do make me pull out them eyes...
Make me slap yo mother-f**in' face but don't speak
That big round a** could make some good luncheon meat
In other words you're dead, you got your cap peeled
See i'm a crazy motherf**er and that sh**'s real
Yo man, whacha think about that
(man, what you say about that is bullsh** - that sh** ain't real)
Oh, aight, check this out
It's 1993 and master p is back in this motherf**er
Ya know what i'm sayin'
I had to get a lil' stupid 'cause last year some n***az was talkin' sh**
But see, i'm back
Ya know what i'm sayin'
I'm about to get paid
And all them motherf**ers that try to stop me
There's gonna be a bloody murda
Yo kent, turn up some of that gangsta-a** music