Master P - Two Three (feat. Rick Ross) | Текст песни

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• Master P
• Two Three (feat. Rick Ross)

[Hook]
I ball like I'm two-three
Bitch I hustle like I'm two-three
I'm on the block like two-three
Bitch I'm back, y'all niggas remember me?
I ball like I'm two-three
Nigga hustle like two-three
I'm on the block like two-three
Now I'm back bitch, y'all remember me?

[Verse 1: Master P]
Michael Jordan of the street shit
So hard, showed you niggas how to eat, bitch
Twenty-three on my muthafuckin' pinky finger
Twenty-three million on the mansion, what you thinkin'?
Pussy nigga, you gon' stop me?
Fake nigga ain't make me
Twenty-three years old when I got rich
Twenty-three thousand, spend it on an outfit
Versace know me by my muthafuckin' first name
Twenty-three grand, [?] on my fuckin' chain
Twenty-three on muthafuckin' Forbes, nigga
Twenty-three exotic cars in the garage, nigga

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Drop from the line, my tongue hang out of my mouth
People rush in the trap, my niggas runnin' 'em out
My lil whoa wanna ball, he keep ski-masking off cars
Holidays around the corner, sold a fake key to his dawg
[?] for the shoot, niggas die on your [?]
See me in that Mpisane, bitch I knock out your noodle
Bought my whoa a Camaro, all my bitches Sahara
I got that make you disappear money, abracadabra
Niggas up in the rafters, it's the Heat verse the Raptors
We sit with the owners, yeah there go those rappers
I don't need no tickets, trap jump like it's Blake Griffin
I'm worth fifty tickets, pussy don't make no difference

[Hook]

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