War Wounds Lyrics
| Song | War Wounds |
| Artist | Master P |
| Album | MP Da Last Don (Clean) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Fiend, Master P, Mystikal ... | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| [Fiend] | |
| I done been through it all | |
| Don't ask the way I shoot cuz I done shot (uggh) | |
| Put a tank on my block | |
| Fiend gone get the scene hot | |
| Greens and rocks | |
| Burnin' flesh | |
| Have you ever smelled nigga? | |
| Been tapped up, ready to die from mail niggas | |
| Straight goin' to hell | |
| But livin' the dirty, dirty | |
| Havin' yah mama worry | |
| That (?) | |
| Tired of being blast at, but didn't cast that | |
| I done asked for my life, and right there was laughed at | |
| But when I backtracked, (?) | |
| Blast back | |
| Told 'em to cast that, take these rounds and add that | |
| But fact is you don't fuckin' choose yo' wars | |
| Or be like me muthafucka and do it with two guns | |
| [Chorus--Master P x3] | |
| Check my war wounds (uggggh) | |
| My war wounds (ugggh) | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| [Master P] | |
| My adversarys get popped | |
| Got me runnin' from cops | |
| The ghetto life be a dime | |
| Got me carryin' two glocks | |
| My enemies is bad | |
| Chop limes of grass | |
| Drive-bys and rags | |
| And representin' red and blue flags | |
| See I got fools from the ghetto | |
| Like my cousin' Jimmy wear permanent metals | |
| My evidence is satus with hoes | |
| Bloody Polos | |
| Pullin' in car do's | |
| And cut up Jabos | |
| [Chorus--Master P x2] | |
| [Silkk the Shocker] | |
| I'm down tah blast for my homies | |
| And cash for my homies | |
| Even if I'm old G I'll be down to ride and die | |
| If the hood call me | |
| That's why I be hustin' every day | |
| Could you imagine me with no stash? | |
| Like a bank with no cash | |
| Tryna' drive a car with no gas | |
| And fuck one day with no tag? | |
| Shotgun with no class | |
| Window with no glass | |
| Or all you girls with no ass | |
| See I'm a risky rider | |
| Caliope crawler | |
| A Down South Hustla | |
| Plus a head buster from New Orleans | |
| See I gotta be a paid nigga | |
| A made nigga | |
| Be the nigga to bust yo' shit | |
| And the nigga tah be the grave digga | |
| See my tattoos reveal some of the shit I done did | |
| But the move of other niggas that bout it | |
| Feel the shit I do just tah live | |
| See I been scared, popped at, and shot at | |
| But I live an eye for eye | |
| So the enemies I ain't forgot that | |
| [Chorus--Master P x2] | |
| [Mystikal] | |
| It's real, shit's real check my war wounds | |
| This here real life, ain't no fuckin' cartoons | |
| I'm the Saudi Arabian death killin' veteran on the tube | |
| Either me or you right here | |
| Come back and hang out in my room | |
| I done shot my rifle, trained to kill | |
| Got blood on my fatiques | |
| Once you in ain't no turnin' back | |
| Lay yo' ass over seas | |
| Might as well handle your business | |
| There's no overcome to this shit | |
| Be on yo' Ps and Qs nigga | |
| Don't cry like no bitch | |
| You see a weak nigga, that's a beat nigga | |
| And fuck a stead nigga, that's a dead nigga | |
| Tell my mama not to worry bout me why I'm gone | |
| If I die bitch, box me up and ship me back home | |
| Bury me in the N.O. with my stripes on my chest | |
| Tell them muthafuckas that I did my best | |
| Middle finga pointin' sayin' fuck Iraq | |
| If you don't believe me check my combat pack | |
| [Chorus--Master P x3] | |
| [Snoop Dogg] | |
| I got a muthafuckin' story to tell | |
| Nigga, nigga what? | |
| A muthafuckin' story to tell (What?) | |
| Fool, I got a muthafuckin' story tah tell | |
| And every nigga in the jail cell knows it well | |
| I shank niggas, bank niggas | |
| Do mo' fo' show | |
| Seven cluckas, fake dough | |
| Stayin' way cut throat | |
| I hang out, slang out, at hotel rooms | |
| Up all night gettin' in gun fights | |
| I strike my head on the wall | |
| Seven Eight ward | |
| Eastside, rollin' dubs | |
| Call me big Snoop Dogg | |
| Follow me, and you'll see how Gs move | |
| It's written on my face | |
| I takes my war wounds | |
| Been around drama since me and my mama | |
| Use to listen to oldies | |
| That's why I'm so old G | |
| Look, when half of you niggas couldn't come outside | |
| When ya'll was learnin how tah sing | |
| I was learnin' how tah bang and ride | |
| Fo' sho' bro, I told yah | |
| Im'a gangsta soulja, blowin' doja | |
| What a story tah tell.. |
| zuo ci : Fiend, Master P, Mystikal ... | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| Fiend | |
| I done been through it all | |
| Don' t ask the way I shoot cuz I done shot uggh | |
| Put a tank on my block | |
| Fiend gone get the scene hot | |
| Greens and rocks | |
| Burnin' flesh | |
| Have you ever smelled nigga? | |
| Been tapped up, ready to die from mail niggas | |
| Straight goin' to hell | |
| But livin' the dirty, dirty | |
| Havin' yah mama worry | |
| That ? | |
| Tired of being blast at, but didn' t cast that | |
| I done asked for my life, and right there was laughed at | |
| But when I backtracked, ? | |
| Blast back | |
| Told ' em to cast that, take these rounds and add that | |
| But fact is you don' t fuckin' choose yo' wars | |
| Or be like me muthafucka and do it with two guns | |
| ChorusMaster P x3 | |
| Check my war wounds uggggh | |
| My war wounds ugggh | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| Master P | |
| My adversarys get popped | |
| Got me runnin' from cops | |
| The ghetto life be a dime | |
| Got me carryin' two glocks | |
| My enemies is bad | |
| Chop limes of grass | |
| Drivebys and rags | |
| And representin' red and blue flags | |
| See I got fools from the ghetto | |
| Like my cousin' Jimmy wear permanent metals | |
| My evidence is satus with hoes | |
| Bloody Polos | |
| Pullin' in car do' s | |
| And cut up Jabos | |
| ChorusMaster P x2 | |
| Silkk the Shocker | |
| I' m down tah blast for my homies | |
| And cash for my homies | |
| Even if I' m old G I' ll be down to ride and die | |
| If the hood call me | |
| That' s why I be hustin' every day | |
| Could you imagine me with no stash? | |
| Like a bank with no cash | |
| Tryna' drive a car with no gas | |
| And fuck one day with no tag? | |
| Shotgun with no class | |
| Window with no glass | |
| Or all you girls with no ass | |
| See I' m a risky rider | |
| Caliope crawler | |
| A Down South Hustla | |
| Plus a head buster from New Orleans | |
| See I gotta be a paid nigga | |
| A made nigga | |
| Be the nigga to bust yo' shit | |
| And the nigga tah be the grave digga | |
| See my tattoos reveal some of the shit I done did | |
| But the move of other niggas that bout it | |
| Feel the shit I do just tah live | |
| See I been scared, popped at, and shot at | |
| But I live an eye for eye | |
| So the enemies I ain' t forgot that | |
| ChorusMaster P x2 | |
| Mystikal | |
| It' s real, shit' s real check my war wounds | |
| This here real life, ain' t no fuckin' cartoons | |
| I' m the Saudi Arabian death killin' veteran on the tube | |
| Either me or you right here | |
| Come back and hang out in my room | |
| I done shot my rifle, trained to kill | |
| Got blood on my fatiques | |
| Once you in ain' t no turnin' back | |
| Lay yo' ass over seas | |
| Might as well handle your business | |
| There' s no overcome to this shit | |
| Be on yo' Ps and Qs nigga | |
| Don' t cry like no bitch | |
| You see a weak nigga, that' s a beat nigga | |
| And fuck a stead nigga, that' s a dead nigga | |
| Tell my mama not to worry bout me why I' m gone | |
| If I die bitch, box me up and ship me back home | |
| Bury me in the N. O. with my stripes on my chest | |
| Tell them muthafuckas that I did my best | |
| Middle finga pointin' sayin' fuck Iraq | |
| If you don' t believe me check my combat pack | |
| ChorusMaster P x3 | |
| Snoop Dogg | |
| I got a muthafuckin' story to tell | |
| Nigga, nigga what? | |
| A muthafuckin' story to tell What? | |
| Fool, I got a muthafuckin' story tah tell | |
| And every nigga in the jail cell knows it well | |
| I shank niggas, bank niggas | |
| Do mo' fo' show | |
| Seven cluckas, fake dough | |
| Stayin' way cut throat | |
| I hang out, slang out, at hotel rooms | |
| Up all night gettin' in gun fights | |
| I strike my head on the wall | |
| Seven Eight ward | |
| Eastside, rollin' dubs | |
| Call me big Snoop Dogg | |
| Follow me, and you' ll see how Gs move | |
| It' s written on my face | |
| I takes my war wounds | |
| Been around drama since me and my mama | |
| Use to listen to oldies | |
| That' s why I' m so old G | |
| Look, when half of you niggas couldn' t come outside | |
| When ya' ll was learnin how tah sing | |
| I was learnin' how tah bang and ride | |
| Fo' sho' bro, I told yah | |
| Im' a gangsta soulja, blowin' doja | |
| What a story tah tell.. |
| zuò cí : Fiend, Master P, Mystikal ... | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| Fiend | |
| I done been through it all | |
| Don' t ask the way I shoot cuz I done shot uggh | |
| Put a tank on my block | |
| Fiend gone get the scene hot | |
| Greens and rocks | |
| Burnin' flesh | |
| Have you ever smelled nigga? | |
| Been tapped up, ready to die from mail niggas | |
| Straight goin' to hell | |
| But livin' the dirty, dirty | |
| Havin' yah mama worry | |
| That ? | |
| Tired of being blast at, but didn' t cast that | |
| I done asked for my life, and right there was laughed at | |
| But when I backtracked, ? | |
| Blast back | |
| Told ' em to cast that, take these rounds and add that | |
| But fact is you don' t fuckin' choose yo' wars | |
| Or be like me muthafucka and do it with two guns | |
| ChorusMaster P x3 | |
| Check my war wounds uggggh | |
| My war wounds ugggh | |
| Every soldier got a story to tell | |
| Master P | |
| My adversarys get popped | |
| Got me runnin' from cops | |
| The ghetto life be a dime | |
| Got me carryin' two glocks | |
| My enemies is bad | |
| Chop limes of grass | |
| Drivebys and rags | |
| And representin' red and blue flags | |
| See I got fools from the ghetto | |
| Like my cousin' Jimmy wear permanent metals | |
| My evidence is satus with hoes | |
| Bloody Polos | |
| Pullin' in car do' s | |
| And cut up Jabos | |
| ChorusMaster P x2 | |
| Silkk the Shocker | |
| I' m down tah blast for my homies | |
| And cash for my homies | |
| Even if I' m old G I' ll be down to ride and die | |
| If the hood call me | |
| That' s why I be hustin' every day | |
| Could you imagine me with no stash? | |
| Like a bank with no cash | |
| Tryna' drive a car with no gas | |
| And fuck one day with no tag? | |
| Shotgun with no class | |
| Window with no glass | |
| Or all you girls with no ass | |
| See I' m a risky rider | |
| Caliope crawler | |
| A Down South Hustla | |
| Plus a head buster from New Orleans | |
| See I gotta be a paid nigga | |
| A made nigga | |
| Be the nigga to bust yo' shit | |
| And the nigga tah be the grave digga | |
| See my tattoos reveal some of the shit I done did | |
| But the move of other niggas that bout it | |
| Feel the shit I do just tah live | |
| See I been scared, popped at, and shot at | |
| But I live an eye for eye | |
| So the enemies I ain' t forgot that | |
| ChorusMaster P x2 | |
| Mystikal | |
| It' s real, shit' s real check my war wounds | |
| This here real life, ain' t no fuckin' cartoons | |
| I' m the Saudi Arabian death killin' veteran on the tube | |
| Either me or you right here | |
| Come back and hang out in my room | |
| I done shot my rifle, trained to kill | |
| Got blood on my fatiques | |
| Once you in ain' t no turnin' back | |
| Lay yo' ass over seas | |
| Might as well handle your business | |
| There' s no overcome to this shit | |
| Be on yo' Ps and Qs nigga | |
| Don' t cry like no bitch | |
| You see a weak nigga, that' s a beat nigga | |
| And fuck a stead nigga, that' s a dead nigga | |
| Tell my mama not to worry bout me why I' m gone | |
| If I die bitch, box me up and ship me back home | |
| Bury me in the N. O. with my stripes on my chest | |
| Tell them muthafuckas that I did my best | |
| Middle finga pointin' sayin' fuck Iraq | |
| If you don' t believe me check my combat pack | |
| ChorusMaster P x3 | |
| Snoop Dogg | |
| I got a muthafuckin' story to tell | |
| Nigga, nigga what? | |
| A muthafuckin' story to tell What? | |
| Fool, I got a muthafuckin' story tah tell | |
| And every nigga in the jail cell knows it well | |
| I shank niggas, bank niggas | |
| Do mo' fo' show | |
| Seven cluckas, fake dough | |
| Stayin' way cut throat | |
| I hang out, slang out, at hotel rooms | |
| Up all night gettin' in gun fights | |
| I strike my head on the wall | |
| Seven Eight ward | |
| Eastside, rollin' dubs | |
| Call me big Snoop Dogg | |
| Follow me, and you' ll see how Gs move | |
| It' s written on my face | |
| I takes my war wounds | |
| Been around drama since me and my mama | |
| Use to listen to oldies | |
| That' s why I' m so old G | |
| Look, when half of you niggas couldn' t come outside | |
| When ya' ll was learnin how tah sing | |
| I was learnin' how tah bang and ride | |
| Fo' sho' bro, I told yah | |
| Im' a gangsta soulja, blowin' doja | |
| What a story tah tell.. |
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