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Master P - Tryin' to Make a Dollar Out of 15 Cents lyrics
[Hook x3]
 Tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
 How come when I was down you wasn't brown nosin'
 [Master P]
 See it's a fucked up life that I'm livin' in
 I slang cola cause I didn't have no dividends
 My baby mama stressin' she don't wanna slang dope
 The ghetto's tryin' to kill me which way should I go
 Now I'm on the corner takin' penitentiary chances
 Even though there's marks on my turf that can't stand me
 I think to myself, when should I leave
 Too say fuck em' nigga till ya hit my weed
 I guess I'm a G about my scrilla cause they bashin'
 Crews know that P is quick to put em' in that casket
 The game got me streesin' but the game gon' stress out
 Even though the task just raid a nigga's house
 Took a loss in the game tryin' to bubble up
 Find the P deep in the grind slangin' dope fiends double ups
 And pretty soon I'll be back to a whole thing
 If I had to do it again I'd probably do the same thing
[Hook x3]
 [RBL]
 Man it ain't nothin' but a thang to let ya nuts hang
 Cause in this game a million niggas tried to fuck the same thang
 I know it be like on, on my block
 Niggas must be on the cell while another's on the short stop
 It won't stop and it won't quit
 Tell me another quick way for a nigga to check a grip, shit
 I'm kind of in a rush, it's kind of like a must
 To get some, in God we trust
 Bein' broke sure ain't no joke
 I barely got enough money to buy me a whole loafMaster P - Tryin' to Make a Dollar Out of 15 Cents - http://motolyrics.com/master-p/tryin-to-make-a-dollar-out-of-15-cents-lyrics.html
 Niggas be spendin' money like records
 So I move from Mike Chester to Girbaud pocket
 Cause a lesson is a nigga will shoot
 No playin' hoops, he ain't gon' never see no signs or no quick loot
 Dank costs ten and the drey costs five
 So I gots have more in my pocket than a nickel and a dime, bitch
[Hook x3]
 [Master P]
 Gold fronts in my mouth, hella dope and got my bags tight
 Bitches on my dick cause they know the P rags are tight
 But I ain't trippin' off no hoochies with no lil' skirt
 I'd rather deal with them turks, puttin' in work
 They caught up in some dirt
 Cause I'm the Ice Cream Man droppin' off hella loads
 Vanilla, stawberry, cherry bitch I even got Rocky Road
 Take yo pick, I know you dope fiends wanna lick
 But that's gon' cost you twenty bones in case you wanna hit
 I love you, you love me
 But this ice cream don't go for free
 It's a ten, twenty, fifty, hundred dollar sack or cone
 And if you ain't spendin' bring yo broke ass on
 Golds on my vehicle, fools they can't see me though
 Tens for twenty, that's plenty meet me at the liquor store
 Fiends want credit but cha' know I can't fade ya
 When you get cha' cash together call me on my pager
 I'm stressin' off the game, I barely gets sleep
 I just had to bail my lil' partner last week
 In and out of aves gettin' chased by the 5-0
 Gettin' my hustle on, a way of survival
 And if I get caught I got play
 But I ain't goin' out without two stones to the head
[Hook to end








