Master P - Tryin' to Make a Dollar Out of 15 Cents lyrics

[Hook x3] Tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cent(s) How come when I was broke you wasn't brown nosin'? [Master P] See it's a f**ed up life that I'm livin' in Hit that slang cola cause I didn't have no dividends My baby mama stressin' she don't want me to slang dope The ghetto's tryin' to k** 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 Think to myself, when should I leave '2' say f** em' and continue hit my weed I guess I'm a G about my scrilla cause they dashin' Fools know that P is quick to put em' in the casket The game got me stressin' but the P ain't gon' stress out Even though the task just raided a n***a's house Took a loss in the game tryin' to bubble up Find the P deep in the grind slangin' a dope fiend's double ups And pretty soon I'll be back to a hoe thing And 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 yo nuts hang Cause in this game a million n***as striving for the same thang I know it be like on, on my block n***as must be on the cell while another on the short stop It won't stop and it won't quit Tell me another quick way for a n***a to check a grip, sh** I'm kinda in a rush, it's kinda like a must To get some "In God We Trust" Bein' broke sure ain't no joke Cause I barely got enough money to buy me a whole loaf And n***as be spendin' money like record So I moved from Mike Chester to Girbaud pocket, check it Cause a lesser n***a's out there singin' "Shoop" Or playin' hoops, he ain't gon' never see no size or no quick loot Dank costs ten and the drank costs five So I gots to have more in my pocket than a nickel and a dime, b**h [Hook x3] [Master P] Gold fronts in my mouth, hella dope and got my bags tight b**hes 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 b**h 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 hoes want a 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 a cone And if you ain't spendin' bring yo broke a** home Gold ones on my vehicle, fools they can't see me though Tens for twenty, n***a that's plenty meet me at the liquor store Fiends want credit but cha' know I can't fade ya And when you get yo' cash together call me on my pager I'm stressin' off the game, I barely get sleep I just had to bury my little partner last week In and out of alleys gettin' chased by the 5-0 I gotta get my hustle on, my way of survival And if I get caught I got played But I ain't goin' out without two stones to the head [Hook to end]