[Mac:]

No Limit black sheep, played the back seat for months 

Stayed away from the Tanqueray, bitches and blunts 

Still Mac nigga, ain't nothin changed 

Got the rings and the gold chains 

Now bitches wanna know my whole name 

I penetrate em, then I disintegrate em 

I let the next nigga date em, cuz I don't hate em 

I spit voodoo, to the most hard to get hoes 

And at the end of the night, I rippin off clothes 

You fuckin with the realest, from lyrical spillers 

To killers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerillas 

From villians to chillers, we made millions 

And paid killers to protect scrilla 

So what the fuck you talk about winners? 

You hear that word camouflage when you hear my name 

I represent the shell shocked cuz it's in my veins 

(No Limit soldier) is on my left arm, I took it in blood 

Throw your hood up if you a thug 

And all them niggas say 



[Chorus: Mac] 

(Woah!) 

You see a soldier on the streets holler 

(Woah!) 

You hear them soldiers on them beats holler 

(Woah!) 

Every time them soldiers speak holler 

(Woah!) 



[Kane & Abel:] 

Load your weapons, grab your gats 

We sprinkle daily verbs over tracks 

Hit the chest like heart attacks 

When my lyrical hammer cock back 

And leave bullet holes in your Bourbons and 'Lacs 

The only thing we give them hoes is a dick and a smack 

Gangstafied Kane & Abel you know the camouflage assassin 

Blastin and mashin, kidnappin and head bashin 

Razor blade slashin, the endo blunt passin 

For the cash and, woah it's bout to happen 

What you want (?) ugly with that 223 

Hit em up in 3-d, now it's banned from tv 

Niggas playa hated, I sho hated 

Spark the weed, cremated 

See this game, we regulated 



[Mr. Serv-On:] 

Nigga, you know me 

The nigga that spell everything out? (Nah) 

The nigga that'll run through your motherfuckin set and bang 

your hoe motherfuckin out (Fuck yeah nigga) 

The nigga that's catchin these niggas and beatin em down 

Cuz they wearin Tanks, they don't know what the fuck it mean 

Nigga, that's the fuck, that's about punchin your fuckin mouth 

The nigga that'll tear the club up 

Nigga, I don't give a fuck if you bangin or slangin 

Nigga when I put this Tank up nigga you get rowdy as the fuck 

But if you think I was gonna leave this motherfucker without 

spellin a line 

K-L you done lost your motherfuckin mind 

Stop the track cuz these niggas don't know about my click black 

I down with the M to the A to the C 

It's the S to the E to the R to the V 

Fuckin with the T to the A to the N to the K 

And when I come through motherfucker and I raise my Tank up high 

You best believe some a you coward motherfuckers gon die 



[Chorus] 



[Big Ed:] 

Nigga what I claim? 

Nigga I claim TRU! 

I hang with niggas that's killas with TRU tatoos 

I got my name Big Ed from what I put between hips 

I got my name Assassin from the way I empty out clips 

Wear the No Limit soldier, thuggin at heart 

Hittin niggas with throw aways when I toss em I break em apart 

Niggas get your guns up if you rowdy 

And when Assassin hit the stores, buy the album if you bout it 

bout it 



[Snoop Dogg:] 

Rowdy gangsta in this motherfucker, loco 

So I can come through and keep it TRU and do what the fuck I 

must 

I bust, I keep it TRU from the 'ginnin 

Snoop Dogg, the representer from Long Beach city 

A TRU tank dog, bank y'all in y'all face 

If y'all try to come close, y'all can't run this race 

I place my self above the stack 

With my homeboys Mac and sack you fact, we strap for strap 

We got your back, don't even flip out or trip out 

Or dip out, these niggas lookin at me strange 

My game to maintain, I let it go, I sell it don't tell it 

Y'all can't touch it motherfucker, or bail it, for real 



[Mia X:] 

Biggest mama, drama two guns here I come 

Put down for my last son, the camouflaged one 

Mac the don, get your shine on cuz it's your time 

And I'ma get my rhyme on and spit like nine 

Cocked nine millimeters the ghetto diva 

Mia X-rated, golden platinum plated 

Face it, when they hear me on the K-L track 

All them niggas grab they head and jump back 

Hollin Woah cuz it's goin down like lips to dick 

I'm so tight I make you bitches never wanna see the mic 

And spit, the matter lesson rhymes next to mine 

I'm mama superior, you hoes is fearin the 

Lyrical warfare I exhale 

Some fake bitches like you name is Mel 

Battle anybody, hip hop or glock 

On TRU I'ma close your shop, woah