Anything Goes

Tru

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    Chorus 2x

    Eenie, meenie, minnie, moe
    You dont know the game till you fuck
    Thats how it goes

    [master p]
    Young nigga tryin to get rich
    Posted up with this shit
    On the grind tryin to slang that muthafuckin shit
    Servin the fiends the ice cream
    You mean that crack

    [king george]
    Bullets cant man tag, one time for the gat
    Can he make it, will he fake it
    Fiends call him betty crocker

    [master p]
    Cause he got the bacon

    [big ed]
    You get a loc like that blueberry dope, that yaho
    Choppin it up like fat, gettin hit on that pager
    Cause its all about the skrilla, nigga
    Pockets gettin bigga
    Pockets gettin swolled, but gettin dubbed by a gold digger

    [silkk]
    Now some choose to pimp hoes, and some hoes pimp them
    Whatever it may be, everybody against them

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    Chorus 2x

    [master p]
    Niggas hittin the bass, straight playa
    But you gotta watch your back for them fuckin hatas
    If I were a football player, Id probably be lawrence taylor
    Blockin these hatas off, be mad
    Cause they know master ps got it goin man
    Thats why I fuck your bitch, but she aint shit
    And everybody in the hood know the hoe suck dick
    But you cause you lame
    But like ice cube said, lets cut out the little man
    You need an ounce of this real game
    It aint a thang to these tru niggas, cause we let our nuts hang
    I got love for you, fool you got love for me
    But theres always some sucker talkin bout wrong p
    You need to jump off that glass dick
    You look like a dope fiend and sound like a bitch
    You want it cooked
    I got baking soda for your bitch ass, huh
    Cause that hoe shit wont last

    Chorus 2x

    [king george]
    Comin from the bayou, a triple by the dosage
    Tryin to dodge rats, but tend to find cock-roaches
    We flip gs, no good deeds
    Down on your knees, kidnapped by gs
    Forties with the clip, shit float to your forehead
    King pay dues, fuck you a dead bitch
    Flip pure game, like the ogs taught me
    Tryin spit game when Im talkin on a for-ty

    Chorus 2x

    [big ed]
    Its nothin but the g in me
    I have a question
    Big ed is on a funky g lesson
    Now, how many gs in the house tonight
    And how many gs spin them gold thangs tight
    Its nothin but a g thang ba-by
    I gotta twank on a fubic, but can you fade me
    Nigga, cause big ed be like tru to it
    Always wearin nikes cause I just do it
    Got more bounce to the ounce
    Get you drunk like some liquor
    Gotta ? ? ?
    Cause hes rollin on my ? ? ? , like a weather got my action
    Grabbin on my nuts like my name was micheal jackson
    So nigga
    Who ride, I ride, slide

    [master p]
    But they cant touch ya

    [big ed]
    With my tru niggas on my side

    [master p]
    And you know I got 5 on it
    But we gotta do this one here for my dead homie

    Chorus 2x

    [silkk]
    A nigga tip toe through the do
    You know Im bout 64 plus mo
    So I had to get low
    And niggas lookin shady
    I shook some shell up in my ass, somebody older
    Yall bitches better pay me
    You want me to say its all good in my hood
    Well I cant
    And anybody that told you it is, they be lyin
    Cause it aint
    I hopped in my ride, started fish tailin
    Seems I caught a flat, so silkk started 3-wheelin

    Chorus 2x

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Master P, Big Ed y King George

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