Lyrics Time For A 187 - Master P

Time For A 187

Uhhh, niggas done fucked up
Nigga, its time to roll
Pass me them nigga chasers
Time to do a 1−8-7
It’s time for a murder
If you a G nigga, load your shit up
Some nigga got some bad ice cream, came short on the dizzough
'Bout to hit the window, gats out the window
And goin' crazy, niggas can’t phase me
If you come up short, niggas 'bout to read daisies
This your final call, I mean your final breath
And when I hit you with that tech I’m bout to put you to rest
I’m crazy, psycho and outtie
Niggas can’t fuck with me the set is fuckin' cloudy
Lay your ass face down on your stomach
You know you dead for fuckin' with my money
P don’t take no shit, everyday all day I’m breakin' bread
24/7, try’na get paid
And lose these hoes in the dope game
'Cause I be crazy, psycho call me the murder man
Hustla, balla, put you in the funeral parlor
9−1-1 in your pager and haul you
And when you call back you dead, bitch
You bust at my Chevy and missed now who you playin' with
Its time to face death, last smoke
Last dash, your last jump
I’mma let you live, psyche
It’s time for a 187 (drive slow, dim the lights)
I think I see the enemy (time to do this)
A 187 (drive slow)
I think I see the enemy (dim the lights)
A 187 (time to do this)
I think I see the enemy (roll down the window)
This will be your last drink, nigga (roll down yo window)
Let’s make it a Bloody Mary
Just did a who-ride, mean a homicide
Did a drive-by, fuck it I’m from the Southside
In Richmond, California niggas don’t give a fuck
But if you come shizzort, you in that black truck
Get you nose swole, I mean your neck broke
When we break you off that 44
Face down 'cause it’s danger
Niggas from the south keep one up in the chamber
I mean we G’s, who you be
What set you with, nigga do you know me
If you don’t you dead
Ain’t no love for cockroaches, 'cause roaches get sprayed
And ain’t no fear in my heart 'cause I’m TRU
Bullets in my vein, see my tattoo
TRU cross my stomach
Eyes hella-red been up all night countin' drug money
But ready to roll with my homies
And after the party, once again it’s on G
I’m gone off that doja, I think I see dem' rollers
But that ain’t gon' stop me from takin' your head off your shoulders
I’m from the projects, we live an eye for eye
And when you fuck with mine you gotta die
And if your name get scratched off the wall bitch
There you go, just took a fall trick
When that No Limit tank start hittin'
Nigga them gats start spittin, good riddance
You better run like «The Running Man»
But if you ain’t Schwarzenegger, bitch this your last game
That beam at your forehead
I don’t give a fuck, you can’t run from the infrared
And when I catch you, you murdered
Lyin' on your back, stuck like a turtle
Got cho' head weavin' and wobblin'
You cryin', you scared to die you slobbin'
You beggin' for you life
I’m a give you somethin' to make you feel alright