paroles de chanson Bout That Drama - Master P
[Featuring
Silkk
The
Shocker]
Silkk
Wassup
fool?
Silkk
We
gonna
do
this
like
real
muthafuckin′
g's.
Silkk
Time
to
take
two
in
your
fuckin′
back
Master
P
Young
Silkk
the
shocker
in
this
bitch
Master
P
Bout
that
drama
Master
P
No
Limit
[Silkk]
Niggas
must
wanna
fuckin'
die
bitch
Talkin'
that
muthafuckin′
shit
I
run
with
TRU
I
gives
a
fuck
about
who
you
run
with
Bitch
we
run
this
shit
Nigga
it
be
No
Limit
for
life
Across
my
stomach
Runnin′
is
a
bitch
for
the
simple
fact
that
I
got
drug
money
Got
it
for
fifteen
g's
or
more
I
ain′t
stretchen
out
upon
the
floor
I
want
that
cash
in
that
bag
Then
Im'a
dash
I
want
that
cash,
and
that
dope
It
ain′t
no
luv
in
this
bitch
I
got
a
slug
for
a
trick
It's
′95
my
nigga,
but
I
be
livin'
large
and
rich
Gotta
break
'em
off
the
plastic
Have
them
face
down
closed
casket
You
niggas
should
never
start
that
shit
with
a
semi-automatic
Stuff
them
niggas,
freeze,
show
em
my
degrees
I
want
them
keys
up
in
the
lexus,
bloody
trail
but
police
can′t
catch
Me
Nigga
wassup?
(Murder)
Fool
Gettin′
high
up
off
that
indo
Niggas
gettin'
high
′n
rich
and
bend
low
Cock
with
a
glock
Pop
once
to
them
low
Nigga
fade
me
Think
I'm
crazy?
Nigga,
I
do
this
shit
daily
I′m
bout
that
drama
[Master
P
chorus]
I'm
bout
that
drama,
I′m
bout
that
drama
No
Limit
niggas
ready
to
kill
We
bout
that
drama
We
bout
that
drama
bitch
No
Limit
niggas
are
bout
that
drama
That
drama
Drama
We
bout
that
drama
Givin'
niggas
one
way
tickets
to
the
bahamas
[Silkk]
Bitch
I
been
about
that
drama
Nigga,
this
shit
ain't
gon′
fuckin′
stop
My
bullets
ain't
got
no
name
And
plus
my
trigga
ain′t
gots
no
heart
Freeze
You
niggas
better
duck
I'm
quick
as
fuck
Nigga
I′m
rollin'
in
this
fuckin′
cutlass
I
gives
a
fuck
bitch
Nigga
I
falls
for
that
bitch
and
ducks
this
Nigga
don't
need
to
run
though
Cuz
I'm
knockin′
everything
up
off
the
front
porch
With
this
gat
1-1-0
Nigga
watch
straight
street
sweeper
Watchin′
the
block
And
the
glock
cock
Nigga,
boz
with
that
shot
your
dome
It
be
known
I'm
from
the
southside
Bitch
you
thought
wrong,
I
stick
and
move
with
this
pistol
grip
I
see
you
bleedin′
tryna'
get
to
the
phone
Call
9-1-1
But
to
late,
you
caught
up
in
a
1-8-7
Stretched
out
on
the
stretcher
Can′t
catch
me
bitch
I'm
to
smooth
Bullets
to
the
dome,
and
I′m
on
and
cool
How
you
gon'
catch
me
when
the
police
ain't
got
no
evidence
I
represent
I
bet
you
I
get
dead
presidents
Before
I
die
I′m
bust
more
fly
For
′97
P
and
Silkk
gon'
sell
a
billion.
*Master
P
chorus
and
talking*
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