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letra de we don't stop - master p

[chorus]
the streets is rockin’ with us ain’t no compet-tion
ain’t no limit to the money that a n-gga getting
f-ck your trophies n-gga and your award shows
i’m in the phantom countin’ money n-gga slammin’ doors
we don’t stop we don’t stop we don’t bend
we da champs
we don’t change we don’t lose we just win
we da champs
we don’t stop we don’t stop we don’t bend
we da champs
we don’t change we don’t lose we just win

[verse 1: master p]
i feel like stephan curry
in game 6
came back n-gga
yah
i’ma do it again
i make non believers
believe in me
i make hatin n-ggas change and wanna be with me
ima hot n-gga tie the knot n-gga
versace slim i got money on the block n-gga
we don’t change n-gga
f-ck your fame n-gga
a thousand grams is how i came up in this game n-gga

[verse 2: eastwood]
ain’t another label out hotter
we rich tell a hater why bother
won’t change for the paper nope (nada)
if a n-gga try to mob pistol hit em
rock wilder
i got blammers in da hood of that ‘rarri
k!ll ’em wit the swag and i won’t say sorry won’t say quit and i won’t say never
my ambition on fleek and i’m feeling so irie
got money on my mind it’s the finals
klay thomp’ with the work wrist vital
black chopper with the scope sittin on the porch waitin for the blow
k!llin off all rivals
i be whippin whippin’ kane like i whip da marci
and my dope spot boomin’ like a project party

[verse 3: ace b-47]
so tell me me what the f-ck is sleep
i thought i knew what hustling was til i met p
excuse my french versaces slim straight to point boy will don’t bend
but them choppa clips got scoliosis
grill ’em like el pollo loco
pull up in that phantom they go casper when the doors open
and that lil b-tch that’s on the hood look like a trophy
my shooting deserve a trophy my n-ggas deserve them porches
porcelain floors foreign wh0r-s and all on forbes
i’m out the 3 but in love with them foreign cars
i’m ace

[verse 4: fame-o]
all i do is windmill
f-ck with my n-ggas and get k!lled
have you sh-ttin on yourself now you found out that sh-ts real
i make the pistol pop like a tip drill i make the shotty pump like a pair
of heels
make your girl suck till she can’t kneel
made myself hot now i can’t chill
really though i can chill when i put your body on a bag of ice
told mama i’m livin’ life she holla stop son you not livin right
but who are you to judge when you don’t live the life i live
go and ask charlie bout me n-gga all i do is win

- master p

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