Back down I won't, back down I don't
Ain't really tryna go back down that road
But I picked up that phone
Picked up them stones
Now I'm back up on that block and I'm strapped up like whoa
'Cause the tax man don't know
That there's shottas out in Bow
Were creepin' 'round my block, I think they might want my dro
I think they might want my coke
Them industry bros
Or them industry hoes want this dick up in that throat
I drive down that motor, man
Old-school, gotta roll
I got them cats on my line
Got them chicks on my mind
So I'm back up on my grind
Back now, I'm trying
Gonna make P's and fly
Got some peace, some quiet
But the road it calls my name
Chicks know my name
Niggas moving flames with them tits on that Range
Dropping hits to the pagans, I slice up that bacon
Gotta get my dough, hit them streets and start baking
Now I'm caking
Yeah man, take a fuckin' slice
Put it in your mouth and stop chattin' shit
Yeah man, that Master P, Silkk the Shocker flow
Who knows about Master P, Silkk the Shocker?
Couple old school bits for man