Lyrics Master P – White

Talking
Yo Gotti, me and Krazy on the freeway right now
But my girl gon’ bring it to you, it’s coming from Louisville
Holla at me when you get there

Chorus — 2x
A wrist full a ring full, a chest full of ice
And a bitch in a rental, with a trunk full of white

Master P
A thousand grams, I done flipped into a mill
And my nigga looking crazy, cause he gone off them pills
And my belt buckle say, Versacci
Two bundles in my waistline, hope the feds don’t stop me
On the freeway, in that new Bentley truck
Follow me, two bad bitches in that fucking rental truck
Told em hit me up when they touch down, break it up bust it down
Throw it in the air, Drew Brees it’s a touchdown
I don’t give a fuck, money by the gallons
Yeah I’m a rich nigga, I only fuck with stallions
Ice Cream Man, with the snow white ghost
No Limit in this bitch, throw it up and let it go

Chorus — 4x

Yo Gotti
Dope boy shit, real nigga anthem
Mr.-Mr. I Am, street niggaz stand up
Know what that means, he ain’t finished it
Hey bay-bay, hand clap I’m going in
I don’t give a fuck what niggaz say, I get my grind
I don’t need security in the club, I got my nine on
White denim white sixes, get my shine on
Bitches play them games, but bitch you know my mind strong

Chorus

Krazy
Last year I couldn’t make it rain, doing bad money tight
Pull up in that Maybach, all black with the gold stripes
Cold game I did time, project my bloodline
Thinking bout my dog C, hoping he get free time
Me and P we ball out, drink till we fall out
You a bad chick with a foul mouth, I buy that mall out
Downtown I carry that, breeder life I married that
Use to be a real niggaz, now you just a real rat
On that highway with that real white, some of ya’ll just studio
Ask Yo Gotti and Young Jeezy, real hustlers know how it go
Selling raw dope in a raw game, killers come they bust brains
Got fifty bricks ain’t no dummy, Johnny Depp blow money

Chorus — 4x