| It’s a drought, but we got dope
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| We got dope, we got dope
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| It’s a drought, but we got dope
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| Then it’s gon cost you mo'
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| First you mix the dope, then you cook the dope
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| And if you ain’t a fiend, you don’t smoke the dope
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| This ain’t a movie, and you ain’t Scarface
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| So don’t bring no hoe around you, that love white cake
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| C-Murder facing life, and never gave a name
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| And you niggas turn on each other, for a couple of them thangs
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| I must address this shit, cause it’s a serious fucking issue
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| How you gon accept a badge, 'fore the police come get you
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| We don’t fuck with y’all kind, whodi why you snitching
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| This ain’t baseball, so stop pitching
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| And making collect calls, to the police
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| Get your jersey retired, whodi you don’t know me
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| I should of stayed in school, could of been a doctor
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| But I’m riding Third Ward boys, trying to lose them helicopters
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| But I ain’t with being broke, got the scale in my coat
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| We gon get through this man, meet me by the sto'
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| And I don’t know, what they told you boy
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| I got that A1, whole baking soda boy
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| You could add the B12, put it in a bag
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| Take it to the hood, I bet it go fast
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| I take razors to the plate, chop up the yay
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| Till they call the corner store, the Hard Rock Cafe
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| So I kick in the door, cause they heard I supply bricks
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| I got 10 they find more, I could hide 6
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| You think quick, when there’s money on the line
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| That’s when I come through, and get em every time
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| Fine line 'tween the vision my chain, like it’s straw
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| And the nose of a fiend, and they sniffing that caine
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| You snort raw, I got Peruvian pure
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| My connect not dimmy, but he giving me more
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| How you a hustler dog, since you with the top off
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| Best taking flicks, so you tripping making drop off’s
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| The game clear, when I’m spitting these bars
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| It’s that of a real nigga, when I sit through a charge
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| We got work man, tell me what you want
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| Yeah he supplying shit, I can get it in a month
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| Put the pieces in place
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| Then we find the yay
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| No shorts on the strip
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| All the money be straight
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| Don’t hate if you broke, must of woke up late
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| Cause we be up when the sun rise, dope don’t wait
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| Now the FED’s came through, took some niggas off the block
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| Rat-a-tat-tat, this shit won’t stop
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| Now how many niggas, got to die in this game
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| 'Fore we all realize, we gotta get out of this thang
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| And if you make it to money, get your life straight
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| Find another way out, before it’s too late
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| Ain’t nothing wrong, with making it out of the hood
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| It’s enough for in the game, where the playas play for good
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| And these cats, be barking
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| Keep your eyes on these niggas, that you know that be talking
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| (*talking*)
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| You heard me, fuck
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| Get against the car |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song It's A Drought , by - Master P. Song from the album Good Side / Bad Side, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп