[Chorus: Fredro Starr] I'm a soldier, ready for war, ready to shoot I'm a warrior, ready to die for my troops I'm a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe I'm a hustler, hustler, hustler, hustler Told ya, ready for war, ready to shoot I'm a warrior, ready to die for my troops I'm a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe I'm a soldier, soldier, soldier, soldier
[Fredro Starr] We play the block to the morning til the sun comes up Or fiends run out, hustle til them guns come out Or deans run out, hustle til them ones stack up Or boys roll up, we playin the block, you know man Niggas on the rock talkin bout the cars we roll Chickens in the club buggin on the money we blow Other People baby, gettin like a hundred a show When they see us, bitches pass out, they holdin the flow Man haters don't wanna see the next man bowl What the little nigga skippin in the Lexus for We in it for the hed, killa what that vest if for? Two stacks, glocks hiddin in my Lexus dough Now ya wanna see the ice wit the electric blow They rather see shots flamin, not to test the row Then we love by the minute, but we feared by more Cuz I don't give a fuck, I'm ready to die, ready to go
[Chorus]
[X-1] I'm a soldier, ain't that right, ain't that what I am? On the block yellin "two for five's" wit rocks in my hand Keep the money rolled in rubber bands, accordin to plans Dirty pots in the kitchen nigga shoppin in grands While Ms. Brenda from upstairs always callin the cops Stash rocks in the mailbox, them corners is hot Find a dumb bitch, get a crib, open up shop Blow it up for two months, then skip to the next spot This is a business man, don't mess wit that here Who can fuck around and plus ya still love in the air And that's a nice little toy ya got, let's raise that Put ya title on the line, big baller, let's bet that I don't need trees, nigga, all I need is them G's Money's my high, dollar signs stuck in my eyes Don't come to this strip, bitch, unless you comin to buy It's nothin to hide, drug dealers lovin they lies
[Chorus]
[Sticky Fingaz] I come thru the block, niggas hold they breath They heart pump fear, they stand there, hold they chest My name speak for it self, kid you know the rest From outta the dark, Sticky speakin codes of death Do you know how much bloods been spilled on my name? Unless you walk in my Timbs you can't feel my pain Got no feelings for you niggas, ice chill in my vein Besides the millions in the bank account, I'm still the same Seen my own father slain, ain't dropped one tear If you died right now, you think I'd fuckin care!? I'd get everybody in this bitch, stuck up in here And all that war right now, is where ya blood gets smeared Rappers gettin shot up, brr, it's cold out there I guess niggas was really dyin, or blow that year Wit God as my witness, I end ya career Cross my heart, hope to die, and all my life I swear
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[Chorus: Fredro Starr] I'm a soldier, ready for war, ready to shoot I'm a warrior, ready to die for my troops I'm a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe I'm a hustler, hustler, hustler, hustler Told ya, ready for war, ready to shoot I'm a warrior, ready to die for my troops I'm a baller, skatin on chrome, pushin the Coupe I'm a soldier, soldier, soldier, soldier
[Fredro Starr] We play the block to the morning til the sun comes up Or fiends run out, hustle til them guns come out Or deans run out, hustle til them ones stack up Or boys roll up, we playin the block, you know man Niggas on the rock talkin bout the cars we roll Chickens in the club buggin on the money we blow Other People baby, gettin like a hundred a show When they see us, bitches pass out, they holdin the flow Man haters don't wanna see the next man bowl What the little nigga skippin in the Lexus for We in it for the hed, killa what that vest if for? Two stacks, glocks hiddin in my Lexus dough Now ya wanna see the ice wit the electric blow They rather see shots flamin, not to test the row Then we love by the minute, but we feared by more Cuz I don't give a fuck, I'm ready to die, ready to go
[Chorus]
[X-1] I'm a soldier, ain't that right, ain't that what I am? On the block yellin "two for five's" wit rocks in my hand Keep the money rolled in rubber bands, accordin to plans Dirty pots in the kitchen nigga shoppin in grands While Ms. Brenda from upstairs always callin the cops Stash rocks in the mailbox, them corners is hot Find a dumb bitch, get a crib, open up shop Blow it up for two months, then skip to the next spot This is a business man, don't mess wit that here Who can fuck around and plus ya still love in the air And that's a nice little toy ya got, let's raise that Put ya title on the line, big baller, let's bet that I don't need trees, nigga, all I need is them G's Money's my high, dollar signs stuck in my eyes Don't come to this strip, bitch, unless you comin to buy It's nothin to hide, drug dealers lovin they lies
[Chorus]
[Sticky Fingaz] I come thru the block, niggas hold they breath They heart pump fear, they stand there, hold they chest My name speak for it self, kid you know the rest From outta the dark, Sticky speakin codes of death Do you know how much bloods been spilled on my name? Unless you walk in my Timbs you can't feel my pain Got no feelings for you niggas, ice chill in my vein Besides the millions in the bank account, I'm still the same Seen my own father slain, ain't dropped one tear If you died right now, you think I'd fuckin care!? I'd get everybody in this bitch, stuck up in here And all that war right now, is where ya blood gets smeared Rappers gettin shot up, brr, it's cold out there I guess niggas was really dyin, or blow that year Wit God as my witness, I end ya career Cross my heart, hope to die, and all my life I swear
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