Master P CyHi

[Hook]
Hustler, baller, gangster, cap-pealer
Who I be, your neighborhood drug dealer

[Verse 1]
Mr. Redan, better known as the weed man
55 over pecan, silver split cost you three grand
Life dealt me a weak hand, so I had to get this paper
Like the Indiana Pacers, nigga I had to freelance
See more Saturdays than the weekend
Made a living off touching them circles, look like I’m DJing
Like KRS One, they say I burned too many bridges, shit
I don’t see anybody tryna book and see Shan
See when, I go jumping off the deep end
Shallow minded adults can’t paddle through what I’m speaking
Music saved my life, this ain’t just a hobby
My partners grew up doing 187-robberies
At 15, I was taking bread to poppy
Caught so many flights, Delta send the feds to watch me
Only me real niggas understand, I been seen 100 grand
Cause my OG was a

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Publicist for gangsters, was hustling when Wanksta
First came out but I wasn’t fucking with no strangers
Just my rich homie, young, thugging with the banger
Only brought my 38 cause he had 30 in the chamber
Went from teachers calling, your mama coming to spank you
Now it’s house arrest, monitors on your ankle
My people say I think I’m too grown
Sold an ounce at the bus stop, that’s a school zone
Fool gone, saying that I ain’t street cause I moved on
Boost phone chirping, Cadillac with the roof gone
Two tone nigga tryna jet, get a tombstone
Just a bunch of hoodlums, trap looking like a group home
I learned how to wrap the pack and Grey Poupon
Cause the scent was way too strong
Back when bread got caught and got too long
Shit, we thought it was cool to be a