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pooh-man (mc pooh) - niggas ain't playin' lyrics
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as a youngster, i slanged cain, g-ngb-nged
not a worry in the world, i’m all about money, man
getting my grind on was all my mind was on
making a grip, n-gga, my money was on
double back pulling nothing but mail, f-ck a briefcase
rolex watch with the diamond-studded face
more benzes than a dealership
slant-nose porche with the whole d-mn kit
slanging more keys than the older players
d.a. was on my d-ck but a real n-gga didn’t care
they kicked in my door a million times
and fine–ss b-tches was all that they’d ever find
treated me like vaseline, but quick as a fox
drop a key for 25 like they was hot
fools was jealous, i had too many tricks
f-ck a playa hater, cause i was all about real n-ggas
n-ggas like john-john, the boy from the deuce side
o.g. motherf-ckers like daddy g and clyde
they gave me the game to survive, oppenents gonna die
f-ck him and his family, let the motherf-ckers cry
n-gga caught a bullet cause it wasn’t my dope he was selling
so i shot him behind me, death was trailing
always asking myself, who would be next, b-tch?
gotta wear a vest cause i paranoid as sh-t
i gotta survive, i gotta survive, i gotta survive
who wants to know i wanna die?
but the only way i’m going out is spraying
because the n-ggas from the deuce ain’t playing
from my way up in the dope game, i met a lot of stops
i got into some funk, one of my boys got shot
some fool was on my turf selling dope that wasn’t mine
i’m a gangsta, i mean problem with nines
it never mattered that i knew the fool a long time
cross me once and death is all you’ll find
but this here will be my last hit
to use a gun, it really didn’t take sh-t
we did it, we did it, we did it, we done it
mossberg street sweeper, i pumped it
unloaded all 15 rounds
as i shot and i shot, n-ggas went down
bullets flying, n-ggas dying, but i ain’t trippin
i caught a fool with the back b-tch slippin
pulled out the nine and i popped him 4 times
now let’s see your black -ss cry
he looked at me with on his -ss and said
“f-ck you!” (gunshot) n-gga f-ck you, too!
the hit was on and it was time to go
so i stood in my stide, jumped in the k5
come on n-ggas, come on n-ggas, come on n-ggas
i’m a business man, i can’t stand bullsh-tters
i hate to cause your family dismay
but plain and simple n-gga, we don’t play
i went 5150 when we lost my n-gga bruce
27 shots from a clip, getting loose
for real motherf-ckers, i was sharpening my shooting sk!lls
h-lla mad nightly, shooting motherf-ckers at will
cte, i got nothing to lose
and a h-ll of a lot to gain, by k!lling you
a thrill k!lla from the heart of real k!llers know
in order to give i might have to take a blow
it’s kind of cold that you lost your brother
but we still lost bruce, motherf-cker
tomorrow ain’t promised a gangsta good luck
just a bullet motherf-cker, cause death is a must
as i bust, squeezing on my nine on your block
doing what i feel i gotta do to watch your -ss drop
and if your punk–ss b-tch is in my way
let the stanky-p-ssy b-tch meet my motherf-cking ak
making moves for money, ain’t no delaying
it’s ’91, and the n-gga named pooh, he ain’t playing
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