Time For A 187 - Master P

Uhhh, niggas done fucked up

Nigga, its time to roll

Pass me them nigga chasers

Time to do a 1−8-7

It’s time for a murder

If you a G nigga, load your shit up

Some nigga got some bad ice cream, came short on the dizzough

'Bout to hit the window, gats out the window

And goin' crazy, niggas can’t phase me

If you come up short, niggas 'bout to read daisies

This your final call, I mean your final breath

And when I hit you with that tech I’m bout to put you to rest

I’m crazy, psycho and outtie

Niggas can’t fuck with me the set is fuckin' cloudy

Lay your ass face down on your stomach

You know you dead for fuckin' with my money

P don’t take no shit, everyday all day I’m breakin' bread

24/7, try’na get paid

And lose these hoes in the dope game

'Cause I be crazy, psycho call me the murder man

Hustla, balla, put you in the funeral parlor

9−1-1 in your pager and haul you

And when you call back you dead, bitch

You bust at my Chevy and missed now who you playin' with

Its time to face death, last smoke

Last dash, your last jump

I’mma let you live, psyche

It’s time for a 187 (drive slow, dim the lights)

I think I see the enemy (time to do this)

A 187 (drive slow)

I think I see the enemy (dim the lights)

A 187 (time to do this)

I think I see the enemy (roll down the window)

This will be your last drink, nigga (roll down yo window)

Let’s make it a Bloody Mary

Just did a who-ride, mean a homicide

Did a drive-by, fuck it I’m from the Southside

In Richmond, California niggas don’t give a fuck

But if you come shizzort, you in that black truck

Get you nose swole, I mean your neck broke

When we break you off that 44

Face down 'cause it’s danger

Niggas from the south keep one up in the chamber

I mean we G’s, who you be

What set you with, nigga do you know me

If you don’t you dead

Ain’t no love for cockroaches, 'cause roaches get sprayed

And ain’t no fear in my heart 'cause I’m TRU

Bullets in my vein, see my tattoo

TRU cross my stomach

Eyes hella-red been up all night countin' drug money

But ready to roll with my homies

And after the party, once again it’s on G

I’m gone off that doja, I think I see dem' rollers

But that ain’t gon' stop me from takin' your head off your shoulders

I’m from the projects, we live an eye for eye

And when you fuck with mine you gotta die

And if your name get scratched off the wall bitch

There you go, just took a fall trick

When that No Limit tank start hittin'

Nigga them gats start spittin, good riddance

You better run like «The Running Man»

But if you ain’t Schwarzenegger, bitch this your last game

That beam at your forehead

I don’t give a fuck, you can’t run from the infrared

And when I catch you, you murdered

Lyin' on your back, stuck like a turtle

Got cho' head weavin' and wobblin'

You cryin', you scared to die you slobbin'

You beggin' for you life

I’m a give you somethin' to make you feel alright