Back Up Off Me

Uh, ah, da
(Are you ready for this) Err
The Ice Cream Man
(Are you ready for this)
It's bad like my high
(Are you ready for this)
ERRR, my No Limit Soldiers, trademark
Get em' up ugh, show ya domes, T-R-U
We TRU, ugh, ugh
Time to go to war, ugh

Master P
I'm posted up on the block, got these killers runnin' you sick of this
And chicken nuts, slangin' with cuts
Ready to bust on you cluckers
On you that sick cause we sicker
slangin' flickers
I'm in the projects ballin' with my
I'm hustlin' quarters and thirty sacks
ain't fkin' with dirty sacks
I'm hustlin' I got those ball sacks
But y'all don't know that
I'm the mad killer, murder, lunatic
You fkin' with a nigg* that don't give a fk about you
Or your b*tch cause I'll go like psycho, ha ha ha
Like Michael, load this fkin' rifle
Start blastin' at girls motherfker, yeah cause I'm a psycho
Out that 3rd ward, Calliope killin' murder
Lunatic, haven't you heard of a nigg* not playin' with a full deck
Break ya neck, hustle on ya check
Get cho' get cho' neck broke
fkin' field cats and chat
No Limit nigg*, real nigg*, who
Don't give a fk when you dead and gone
Motherfker you feel my bucks from my chrome

Hook
UGH! back up off me, feel me ugh
Feel it, back up off me, my trademark
Ugh, feel it back up off me, ugh

Master P
Gon' pack me with a nigg* with no bread
Nappy head, put chu' in a grave
Don't give a fk about chu' , pi*s on ya forehead
I'm from that Southside, we kill with that cut rock
But they slangin' that hoo rock
But they wanna boo dock, that buddha
nigg* a quarter, of water
But y'all late cause I done took over New Orleans
In the Southside to the Westside to the Eastside to the Northside
Motherfkers never realize the young gon' die on the streets
I'm killin' murder, the lunatic
Never givin' a fk, I'm tryin' to make bucks
Before I leave this truck
Got these killers watchin' me
not pockin' me
V got that tech nine and Man got that uzi
Big Boz come with rah rah, with sah sah
KR hooked up the track so what the fk y'all didn't realize
We back to takin' the battle, scattle not rattle
Get my tic tac and make ya motherfkin' head rattle
Like an ostrich, nigg* you want some sausage
Meet me in the French Quarter
I'm kickin' it with them 3rd ward hustlers
And they bout it, we rowdy
Never givin' a fk, we started this bout it, bout it
Now why y'all sayin' y'all bout it bout it
Y'all scared of me, yeah y'all scared of me
b*tch talkin' s**t, you and ya b*tch I ain't afraid of ya
I'm hustlin' got them ballers, we smokin' them quarters
Fiends be dippin' that water but we hustlin' like it ain't no tomorrow

Hook

Master P
comin' wicked, fools I'm gon' kick it
Be whippin' as* like I'm cookin' greasy chicken
I'll pop off batter but they wanna scatter
they talkin' s**t, I be runnin' with them 17 round automatics
Up the trees, watch them freeze
Don't give a fk, take off my shirt nigg*
No Limit on my back, back
But they pullin' that sack, sack
TRU against my stomach motherfker how y'all gonna fade that
The real fkin' click, ain't no love for y'all dubs
think we slangin' dubs
nigg* we slangin' tapes to you across the world
that squirrel, I got that girl
My lil' partner got boy, got the whirl
But I don't give a fk cause I be sick like Suzy
Take these 32 round clips from my automatic uzi
Run and duck nigg* you fried
Ain't no love where I'm from, from the outside to the inside
The projects from uptown to downtown
To across the river
slangin' that dope motherfker get cho' head twisted
In the river, you gone, ain't no love meet the chrome
I be in the project ballin' like the black Al Capone
And if you come sick you stupid
Cause my click don't give a fk cause they ready to shoot s**t
Up but nigg* you better duck nigg*
Before you find your body floatin' up the Mississippi River

Hook repeated to end with various ad-libs