Songtexte: TRU (Master P). 1nce Upon a Time.
1nce upon a time in a crack house
A nigga was chopping up a key
It was drought season and everybody was fiending
So they had to come and buy their dope from me
It all started back in the crack house
When I was counting up some dope and some mail
Now beaucoup pagers for sale
But I ain't have no more fucking yail
I has to get me some more
But all the dope is stupid, move kinda slow
Black Adam, we gonna go bust down in Texas
You know that's where I get my dope at
Taz was sweating kinda harder
So I took that plane ride to Georgia
But just remember that I was sitting on that thang
And that half that I got down in Florida
I had a bird but I chopped it up
And I put it down to rocks
That's when I make my come up
I hit my fucking block
Fiends was constant fucking sweating
Now get out da door
I chop dimes to nickels
Fuckers wanna see me chop some more
10's grow to 20's, 20's grow to 50's
We need some yale, holla at your nigga
Or just come and get me
Dear God, can you hear me?
My love for money's gonna kill me
Got me selling crack to the children
And it's a shame because I love how I'm living
Peekin' out the window, tryin' to cope with a run of that indo
Paranoid as the fuck while I'm breaking down this kilo
Like some money to be made, ain't had dope in four days
As the fiends knock, I keep off the block 'til mister gets paid
Selling phat packs when I first react
It's like that, pay man in flat
Throwing this block of dope
Trynna make my money back
Front you something bitch, front me some dollars
But if you ain't got no G's, shit nigga, I can't holler
'Cause way down in the Bayou swamps
When niggas quick to get with some funk
This hard as the fucker come up
So the last thang I need is a begging motherfucker
Stay strapped up whenever, if you will get tapped up
The dope gang, fuck
I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it
Made 10 G's today, 'bout to get up and outie
Shit, I ain't got it
A nigga was chopping up a key
It was drought season and everybody was fiending
So they had to come and buy their dope from me
It all started back in the crack house
When I was counting up some dope and some mail
Now beaucoup pagers for sale
But I ain't have no more fucking yail
I has to get me some more
But all the dope is stupid, move kinda slow
Black Adam, we gonna go bust down in Texas
You know that's where I get my dope at
Taz was sweating kinda harder
So I took that plane ride to Georgia
But just remember that I was sitting on that thang
And that half that I got down in Florida
I had a bird but I chopped it up
And I put it down to rocks
That's when I make my come up
I hit my fucking block
Fiends was constant fucking sweating
Now get out da door
I chop dimes to nickels
Fuckers wanna see me chop some more
10's grow to 20's, 20's grow to 50's
We need some yale, holla at your nigga
Or just come and get me
Dear God, can you hear me?
My love for money's gonna kill me
Got me selling crack to the children
And it's a shame because I love how I'm living
Peekin' out the window, tryin' to cope with a run of that indo
Paranoid as the fuck while I'm breaking down this kilo
Like some money to be made, ain't had dope in four days
As the fiends knock, I keep off the block 'til mister gets paid
Selling phat packs when I first react
It's like that, pay man in flat
Throwing this block of dope
Trynna make my money back
Front you something bitch, front me some dollars
But if you ain't got no G's, shit nigga, I can't holler
'Cause way down in the Bayou swamps
When niggas quick to get with some funk
This hard as the fucker come up
So the last thang I need is a begging motherfucker
Stay strapped up whenever, if you will get tapped up
The dope gang, fuck
I live for it, nigga quick to kill for it
Made 10 G's today, 'bout to get up and outie
Shit, I ain't got it
TRU (Master P)