211 lyrics

Hey P man
Remember that sh*t last year you was talking bout that
Bloody murder sh*t
Won't you kick some more of that sh*t

Verse 1

Jumped out the Chev mean mugged at some sucker punks
King flashed the gauge, them hoes didn't want no funk
So they smashed off hella quick
Why them hoes was leaving me and Sonja C was plotting some gangster sh*t
So put this nine up in your bra strap
And when we get inside this liquor store keep your eyes up on them Japs

Sonya C:
So get your hands up in the air trick
And break me off some cash cause Sonya C's a trigger happy b*tch
So don't be talking that f*cking Japanese
Understand its a jack give up the cash or you'll be swiss cheese

Master P:
Touch the button and I'ma hurt you b*tch
Why you had to and make P get his hands dirty trick
And that'll be some f*cking more sh*t
Sonya C grab the tape cause we ain't leaving no f*cking evidence
The next day the paper reads no leads
Sonya C:
Just a bunch of dead motherf*cking Japanese

Master P:
Jumped in the car and back to the Rich
Bonnie and Clyde or should I say gangsta sh*t

(Chorus)
A motherf*cking 211
We needed cash we robbed the liquor store

Verse 2

I'm getting chronic-eyed or should I say f*cked up
Count my cash it's one G and it's three of us
I seen my face on the news and its time to chill
But I can't cause I got too many f*cking bills
Grabbed my Glock it only had three bullets trick
But if I run out I ain't tripping I'll choke a b*tch
Walked in the corner liquor store with my .44
Played it cool bought a Snapple man f*ck them hoes
He opened the register I tried to do his ass
I ain't tripping cause the P wasn't wearing a mask
Blew out some chronic, showed no remorse
Told them hoes get they ass on the figgety floor
Snatched the cash and my pistol still smoking
Left them hoes like the Raiders left Oakland
(Chorus)

Verse 3

Cali G had the chronic without no zig zags
Hold on partner I'ma go get some f*cking zags
Now I'm off to the liquor store
And just in case it be some funk, I'm gone bring my .44
Now you know the P don't take no sh*t
But this A-rab started following me
Like I was gone steal some sh*t
He was strapped so I had to think quick
Put my .44 to the head of this b*tch
Drop your pistol or she's dead man
Slowly put your hands up in the air
Lets play a little f*cking game
Simon say open the register ho
His b*tch lookin' good so I told her to suck my .44
He got jealous tried to jump I hit him with the pump
Put more cash in my pockets than Donald Trump
And I'm off to the freeway real fast
Got damn, forgot Cali's zig zags

(Chorus)

-Alright you inmate double o 652
Get your ass back in that cell boy
-damn, now ya'll know crime do pay
But you don't always get away