[Master P]   Chorus x4   Throw em up if you a soldier, if you dodging these niggas, these bitches 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 motherfucker talkin shit and working with the rollers   You better duck down quick when the tank pops   Cause we be slanging automatic fucking slangshots   I went from halves, to hoes with weed to working water   From selling grams, to motherfuckin quarters   From quarter keys, to really tapes and cd's   Not every nigga 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, nigga Master P   A ghetto nigga, live and made history   Aint no mugging, just thugs with me   Aint no hugging, aint no loving P   These ghetto heroes is dead and gone   That's why niggas in the ghetto live like Al Capone   I be breaking niggas like ice in Iceland   Crushing niggas 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 aint no coming back   Uh, I seen alot of movies, but this shit is real   And only cars get brand new grills      Chorus x4      [Kane & Abel]   Automatic gats for combat what we pack   Flip niggas like flapjacks, with oz's and crack   We killing 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 fuck 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