Lyric The Farm

[Master P Talking]
You know what?
I mean, society treat me like I m a insect
I m out here hustlin tryna get mine, but imagine
where I m from? You know what I m sayin?
Mama wasn t there, Papa wasn t there, I had to get out
there and get it how I live. ya heard me?
Ha Ha

[chorus 4x]
Mama gone, Daddy wasn t home
Collard greens and grits, we was slangin on the farm

[Master P]
We live that thug life, I mean that drug life
Cop somethin, flip it whodi, I mean I m alright
I got my own paper, I learned to shake a hater
I m high tech, got computers in the navigator
And I be droppin keys, lil whodi, smokin weed
You need somethin, holla atcha boy, whatcha need
You know I m ballin, shot callin
3rd ward Calliope, whodi, it s New Orleans
City of that china white, I got my game tight
One up in the chamber, slang that iron, you know I don t fight
Big Tyme hitta mane, I got the skrilla mane
Step on my toes whodi, and I ma killa mane
Represent that Boot Camp, don t take no food stamps
Catch you slippin at night, and leave yo head damp
Cause I ma tall hitta, and ya ll some small hittas
You know you played wit fire, now you gone fall hitta

[chorus]

[Master P]
Call me two pistols, I make that chrome whistle
I m like Paul Hardy, I m in yo bone gristle
I m not a doctor, Professional blocker
I see a Vic in the hood, I short stop ya
Now get the car whodi, it s time to gas up
Grab me a K, I handle my business and I mask up
I m on the run mane, It aint no fun mane
Tryna change my life but I m back, to doin the same thang
Penitentiary bounded, but well grounded
Seven years later, I m smilin and ya ll frownin

[chorus until end]