They Can´t Stop us!

Tru

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    [master p](talking)
    Whats up niggas?
    I told yall its about to be on, nigga
    We drop shit anytime we want to huh
    Fell this nigga
    Its real (explosion)

    [verse one]

    Flippin the the game
    Niggas that got that cane
    Murder mr. dopeman still in this rap game
    Its 1997, my niggas gone to heaven
    Rest in peace 2pac from master p, doin 2-11s
    187 khadafi, murder
    Puttin niggas in six foot motherfuckin gurters
    If you fuck with this tru clique
    Nigga you gettin your wig spilt
    Who run this gangster rap?
    (no limit runnin this!)its bout to be it
    187 khadafi
    Jumpin on ghetto dope with these gangster topics
    Still makin scrilla
    Your neighborhood drug dealer
    Ice cream slaingin
    Tattooed up real nigga
    In the rap game pushin quarters
    Flippin the water, from texas to florida
    Choppin game to the knuckleheads
    And spittin voodoo on the motherfuckin chichenheads
    Down south hustlin, to the west coast
    Got nigga choppin game, I mean this rap shit in to dope
    Puttin them in packages, independent spittin shit
    Standing on stages with bullet-proof vestes, lookin for other cliques
    But who gon be the next nigga to die in this rap game
    Or drop a hit on the wrong man?
    cause they talkin shit about other niggas
    Now its a war zone, in this rap game

    (chorus)
    But they cant stop us tru niggas
    They cant stop us tru niggas
    They cant stop us tru niggas
    They cant stop us tru niggas

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    [verse 2]
    cause if yall kill one, theyll be a million other niggas in line
    With ghetto dope, bustin ghetto rhymes yall
    Running from the one time not mines
    Posted up, hostin up like soldiers!
    Down south huster, throwin bolders
    Ready to block like a football player
    Got these 17 rounds for yall haters
    So jump on this ghetto shit and come get this wicked shit
    And jump up on this rap game and watch a nigga spit
    Killer, murder topics
    Put my goals if yall think yall can stop it
    Hardcore bangin, hangin slaingin
    Nigga down for whatever thats why we bangin on wax
    Into traps
    Got beats by the pound like niggas slaingin sacks
    In the hood, up to no good
    Got niggas bout it, from baton rouge to st. louis
    To cincinnati
    Got niggas lined up in atlanta like addicts
    Gotta have this gangster shit
    This real shit
    >from this motherfuckin tru clique
    Aint givin up, living raw
    And if we die, fuck it, sell my dro
    To the next gangster nigga
    Rest in peace easy-e., but Im out here makin scrilla!
    So fuck yall white laws
    And yall motherfuckin.....police cars!!
    Comin through with gangsters and killers
    Long like the motherfuckin drug dealer
    97 to 2000 a.d. little kids wanna be me
    cause Im bout it, Im rowdy
    The government and the press, them motherfuckers want me outtie
    For runnin my own shit
    Niggas sellin their company like the slaves sold their souls to 30 cents
    Break bread
    Dont you know 15 percent of what you made?
    You a sucker, a clucker
    So stop rappin hardcore, you hip-hop motherfuckers
    And stay true to the gizzame
    Be about your paper, nigga fuck the fizzame
    Third ward nigga, runnin the hill
    It aint no limit to this gangster shit, blunt smokes and keepin it real

    Yall cant stop us tru niggas
    Yall cant stop us tru niggas
    Yall cant stop us tru niggas
    cause if yall kill one, theyll be a millon more tru niggas

    [slikk the shocker]

    Bitch it be slikk choppin and kickin shit like karate
    Fast like a mazzeroti
    Crime boss like john gotti
    Look into their face, niggas afraid of me
    Look deeper into their eyes, they scared, yeah yall busters scared of me
    cause I flow like water
    Run shit like ki-jana carter
    Tell em, imma be there watch (? ? ? ) like the french quarter
    Down for whatever
    Bow down nigga never
    Buck like a beretta
    Wet you up like bad weather
    Got fangs like a cobra
    Now I got range like a rover
    You dont fuck with us whether you fucked up like a hangover
    From the city where busters lie
    From the city where suckers die
    Make way for p and silkk, two of the baddest motherfuckers alive
    Bitch its your time
    Bitch I want the whole nine
    Bust one line, and make niggas change their whole rhyme
    Im the shocker
    Yeah, I got them
    Its tru motherfuckers, and yall cant stop us
    And its on

    (explosion)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Master P

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