Bout That Drama lyrics

Silkk-Wassup fool?
Silkk-We gonna do this like real muthaf*ckin' g's
Silkk-Time to take two in your f*ckin' back
Master P-Young Silkk the shocker in this b*tch
Master P-Bout that drama
Master P-No Limit

[Silkk]

n*ggas must wanna f*ckin' die b*tch
Talkin' that muthaf*ckin' sh*t
I run with TRU
I gives a f*ck about who you run with
b*tch, we run this sh*t
n*gga it be No Limit for life
Across my stomach
Runnin' is a b*tch for the simple fact that I got drug money
Got it for fifteen g's or more
I ain't stretchen out upon the floor
I want that cash in that bag
Then Im'a dash
I want that cash, and that dope
It ain't no luv in this b*tch
I got a slug for a trick
It's '95 my n*gga, but I be livin' large and rich
Gotta break 'em off the plastic
Have them face down closed casket
You n*ggas should never start that sh*t with a semi-automatic
Stuff them n*ggas, freeze, show em my degrees
I want them keys up in the lexus, bloody trail but police can't catch me
n*gga wassup? (Murder)
Fool
Gettin' high up off that indo
n*ggas gettin' high 'n rich and bend low
c*ck with a Glock
Pop once to them low
n*gga fade me
Think I'm crazy?
n*gga, I do this sh*t daily
I'm bout that drama
[Master P Chorus]

I'm bout that drama, I'm bout that drama
No Limit n*ggas ready to kill
We bout that drama
We bout that drama b*tch
No Limit n*ggas are bout that drama
That drama
Drama
We bout that drama
Givin' n*ggas one way tickets to the bahamas

[Silkk]

b*tch I been about that drama
n*gga, this sh*t ain't gon' f*ckin' stop
My bullets ain't got no name
And plus my trigga ain't gots no heart
Freeze
You n*ggas better duck
I'm quick as f*ck
n*gga I'm rollin' in this f*ckin' cutlass
I gives a f*ck b*tch
n*gga I falls for that b*tch and ducks this
n*gga don't need to run though
Cuz I'm knockin' everything up off the front porch
With this gat 1-1-0
n*gga watch straight street sweeper
Watchin' the block
And the Glock c*ck
n*gga, boz with that shot your dome
It be known I'm from the southside
b*tch you thought wrong
I stick and move with this pistol grip
I see you bleedin' tryna' get to the phone
Call 9-1-1
But to late, you caught up in a 1-8-7
Stretched out on the stretcher
Can't catch me b*tch I'm to smooth
Bullets to the dome, and I'm on and cool
How you gon' catch me when the police ain't got no evidence
I represent
I bet you I get dead presidents
Before I die I'm bust more fly
For '97 P and Silkk gon' sell a billion
*Master P chorus and talking*