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kurupt - play my cards lyrics
(to) (to) (to)
(to the tic)
(to the tic-tic) –> slick rick
yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
kurupt young gotti
h-ll yeah
raw dawg
you know
you know me
raw dawg -ss-ssin
comin atcha, baby
cat, kick it in
kick it in
[ verse 1 ]
pull up…
soon as i park sh-t sparks
spit fire, g-ngb-ng affiliation, retalitation
spit sparks till sh-t’s dark forever
what’s up, homie
why you walkin up on me?
postin up in the shade
we can draw or get paid
you ain’t movin not a thing, homeboy
click em with automatics and automatic toys
bounce, rock, rollerskatin
dippin down the streets on platinum daytons
(yo, what up? )
i’m just a gee
oh yeah, that’s me
don’t forget it
act like you knew it ‘fore i set it
i put the needle on top of the wax
before i turn around
and burn everything to the ground
i seen it comin
a fool over to the right gunnin
the homies whistled
we all draw pistols
[ chorus ]
gotta stay in charge
gotta play my cards
on the grind all day, babe
oh, gots to get paid
[ verse 2 ]
you got a stash to hid, you got some hash to hit?
cash to get, glocks to pop and sh-t
(what you talkin bout? ) everybody’s got questions and sh-t
(hey yo, what’s up with…? ) m-th-f-ckas questionin sh-t
(shut the f-ck up, homie) worryin bout me and my wife
(my wife) all i wanna do is live my life
(that’s all) raise up off me, homie
(yeah) ease back softly, homie
(check it out) i’m a gee from the d.p.g.
and no matter what you say, you can’t f-ck with me
hey loco, i see you wanna loc out
coastin, movin in locomotion
in the cut dippin, the homeboys trippin
spittin, waitin for a shot to get called
the homie spit a plot to us
then p-ssed the 16-shots to us
uh-u-uh
uh-u-uh
uh-u-uh
[ verse 3 ]
i got scams for hundreds of gramms
me and my man, me and my pistol, a plan
for about a
whole ki load of some powder
stashin, dippin, dashin, smashin, tryin to cash in
>from the front to the back, and packin
pull the strap and start clappin
i’m about to move a little somethin
a little sumptin-sumpin
for the homie, pack the pump and get to dumpin
hit the liquor store, i wanna get paid
a fifth of hen, then back to the shade
what you got, smoke, loc, let’s blaze up
let me get a toke, loc, and let’s raise up
punks stop and get popped when funk pop
i’m worldwide while you thinkin: either he is or he’s not
international like [? ? ? ]
you can feel me
in the real way
[ chorus ]
b-tches, get your ride on, on
kurupt young gotti
raw dawg
just get your ride on
just get your ride on, homie
my n-gg- battlecat
ha-ha
just get your ride on, homie
(to the tic-tic
and you don’t quit
hit it)
this is for the riders
riders
the riders
hustlers
hustlers
the hustlers
this is the one, baby!
(tic-toc)
(ya) (ya) (ya don’t)
(ya) (ya) (ya) (ya don’t stop) (stop) (stop)
b-tch
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