(Intro [Snoop]). No Limit. Soldiers. (Ughhhhhhhh!). DPGC. Gangstas. (Ha ha!). Look here you got three crazy muthafuckas. in the same place at the same time.. (Yeah Master P.). You know this shit gon be off the hook.. (It's gon be the wildest shit you ever heard.). For my bitches down south.. Southern hospitality.. (Representin ya heard me!). [Snoop]. From the cold hard streets of the LBC. To a duet with Mystikal and Master P. Real G's ship keys and shoot dice on their knees. And put pistols to the mouths of their enemies. Old country ass nigga with a gold in the front. Be the same muthafucka that get your bitch ass stomped. Underestimatin hatin got you knocked out cold. Tryin to play my boy over you was with your hoe. Them South niggas bangin off the shit that we write. Punk niggas get killed straight on sight. No Limit ain't no gimmick. It's tragic you know so don't be meddlin with my boy and my hoe. Lay low hit the floor I'm back. Yo P take me to the streets that's where my heart is at. You make em say Ughhhhhhh!. I make em say beeyatch. Together we can flip the script and get grip. You got the crack I got the bud sack. Mystikal smack you got the strap. Deep in that gangsta shit on a night like that. You blast me I blast you back beeyatch!. Chorus: X 2. We bout to jump off with some gangsta shit. Gangsta shit!. We bout to hop off with some gangsta shit. Gangsta shit!. Know what we're bout to jump off with some gangsta shit. Gangsta shit!. [Mystikal]. Got this fuckin party poppin. You cappin and army braggin. Gon keep smugglin in this game shit. "Niggas ain't rappin" what you say about gangsta rappin. You get killed forever my nigga every day. Where you get fucked up nigga is where you lay. Time again I tried to tell you but you ain't wanna heard what I say. Damn leather dog bombin. Done made a mistake. We made (something is faded in the background) sound so good. Keep that gangsta shit banging up and down your hood. Cause only real gangstas get down and to the bottom. Where y'all going that much we'll see right through ya. I'll out hustle ya can't put up a fight cause I out muscle ya. My really don't give a fuck attitude got ya feelin uncomfortable. I got that there nigga you ain't saying shit. I'm colder than a brand new pair of Stan Smiths. Fresher than a whole box of green Altimos. But I got to blow your head off and put bullet holes in your Girbauds. Chorus. [Master P]. B-O-U-T we bout it. Real gangstas live muthafuckin rowdy. And where you from is how you come. Where you be or you're at. Fool watch your back for these gangstas in that black from. Long Beach to New Orleans from every nigga in the hood to the. penitentiary. Tryin to survive on these streets. Slangin dope cause the kids gotta eat. Put it in a car or a plane Grey Hound or a train. Sixty five when it came eighty nine when it lay. I'm in love with miss mo mo candy painted four. Twenty skirt with convertible fuckin polo. Bring the stylins of your talk. I mean real gangstas don't talk. Free your mind and refugee. Alive and turn your cheeks like Pras be. Chorus till fade.