Here We Go Lyrics - Master P

Chorus: Master P (repeat 2X) 

Here we go, Here we go, Here we go (BE BOUT YO BUSINESS) 

From the south, to the west, to the mid, to the east coast 

Verse One: Master P 

I got heroin and cocaine 

some call me the dope man, a young nigga havin thangs 

A thug like Tupac 

went from cheddar to cheese, from powder to cooked rocks 

From the ghetto to the lakes 

(to the lakes, 3rd ward, Caliope) 

Slangin' thangs in the hood to move my records to 54 states 

Got more work than the mayor do (mayor do) 

it stick to niggas that talk shit 

like a baller they bitch hair blue 

Got more corns than fritos 

Got more hoe's than Macys sell muthafuckin Girbauds 

Keep the muthafuckin party jumpin (uhh, bout it, bout it) 

For puttin the south on the map like Eazy-E did Compton 

Hoo-ride with these gangbangers (gangbangers) 

No Limit Soldiers, mercenary killas keep one up in the chamber 

Got it Made like Special Ed 

Got more Vapors than BizMarkie ever had 

After Dead Presidents like Eric B. 

Hypnotize the rap industry like Biggie 

Going Federal like E-40 

Shock the world like Silkk, put my pockets on tilt 

Puttin fools On Hold like En Vogue 

Used to slang white ice cream, now its platinum and golds 

Chorus 2X 

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Verse Two: Mystikal 

Without no business 

its over for you before you get out the door 

what the fuck they gon tell you for if you don't already know 

huh nigga thats all on you to be on top of yearn 

But by the time they finish fuckin you, bitch you gon learn 

Ain't no fuckin favors, ain't no fuckin friends 

That shit don't mix, this business 

Be bout yo paper, yo royalties or them bitches will take ya 

Make sure yo contract is escilatin' otherwise them bitches will rape ya 

makin big promises on how it's gonna be all good just and be patient 

yo album done came and gone and you stupid ass still waitin 

stackin paper off my work 

Them no good son of a bitches got me livin for concerts 

I done headlined every hole in the wall in and out the city 

Humble cause I'm gonna believe it was meant for me 

I'ma get it, makin moves but still somethin missin 

Fuck how good you rap it ain't shit without yo business 

No business 

Photos 

Chorus 2X 

Verse Three: Fiend 

I could end the world with one line 

but I chose to make these hoes suffer 

Fill the voice with no muffler, I's a bad motherfucker 

Uncover, unleash the beast, dangerous from head to feet 

Can't control my rhymes, because them bitches seep through 

My teeth, so cold I heats, rising like some yeast, bake some beats 

Meltin needers off of technique and thats just when I speak 

Seek and you should find that my mind is beyond 

and yall niggas lines behind the times of my first lines 

Shit I'm in my prime, I want it with the mic or the nine 

For mine it protects crimes to the blind (he ain't lying) 

And I ain't dying line goes the paper the chase 

P done gave me the break for me to make some cake 

still dope I cook in sake, got pretty ass hoes to bake 

Thats definitely a dumb nigga lure, you wanna smoke 

Cause this business makin me a weed conniseur 

Meet the have-been, one of the last men on this note 

Who wanna get served by the nigga, the nerve at the throat 

You think you bad but bitch you never had 

A nigga to give more heart attacks than Fred Sanford had 

Chorus till fade 

(Master P talking) 

To the motherfuckin south (the south) 

to the west (to the west) 

To the mid (to the mid) 

to the motherfuckin east (to the east) 

To the world (to the motherfuckin world) 

No Limit, here I come whenever we want to 

September 2nd, get the fuckin world high 

bout my motherfuckin business, ha ha, 

Master P, Young Fiend and Mystikal 

Uungh!, bout it bout it