Master P - Throw Em Up lyrics

[Master P] [Chorus x4] Throw em up if you a soldier, if you dodging these n***as, these b**hes and the rollers The clock hits twelve, I'm on the grind Punching your code if you want these nickles, quarters and dimes I got the ghetto soed up like mack diamonds and windy And I got more sealers than JC Pennies Throw it up if you a soldier But if you a punk motherf**er talkin sh** and working with the rollers You better duck down quick when the tank pops Cause we be slanging automatic f**ing slangshots I went from halves, to hoes with weed to working water From selling grams, to motherf**in quarters From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's Not every n***a in the hood knows me Uhhhhhh, but getting rowdy Stayin TRU to the game, and still bout it bout it [Chorus x4 I'm a represent my hood till I die And when I'm gone put it on the blimp and let it ride Third ward, calliope, n***a Master P A ghetto n***a, live and made history ain't no mugging, just thugs with me ain't no hugging, ain't no loving P These ghetto heroes is dead and gone That's why n***as in the ghetto live like Al Capone I be breaking n***as like ice in Iceland Crushing n***as like sevens in dice games Nickel plated meters knocking down doors With hoes and gators, jaboes and polo's So watch your back when you hustling crack Cause jackers take your life away and ain't no coming back Uh, I seen a lot of movies, but this sh** is real And only cars get brand new grills [Chorus x4] [Kane & Abel] Automatic gats for combat what we pack Flip n***as like flapjacks, with oz's and crack We k**ing with tatooes our guns and balls The car with the tek-nine in my droor Went from selling double up's to going double platimum For selling crack and, jack and gun clapping and rapping Watch me smoke my little weed, got my drink and bud What's up to all the slangers, the bangers, bloods and 'cause I was a soldier, I still remain a soldier A cobra, even sold my mamma a bowl a Down a fifty of hennesee and blow a bag of doshia Quarter keys with five G's which a hustle for D Now selling gold LP's, that's a hustling for cheese G's don't give a f** till the world blow up Game over, Kane and Abel, no limit soldiers [Master P] No Limit soldiers, I thought I told ya! [Chorus 4X]