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Kurupt - Play My Cards

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-110-8802 на номер 5537.

Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

(To) (to) (to)
(To the tic)
(To the tic-tic) --> Slick Rick

Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
Kurupt Young Gotti
Hell yeah

Raw Dawg
You know
You know me
Raw Dawg Assassin
Comin atcha, baby
Cat, kick it in
Kick it in

[ VERSE 1 ]
Pull up...
Soon as I park shit sparks
Spit fire, gangbang affiliation, retalitation
Spit sparks till shit`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 shit
(What you talkin bout?) Everybody`s got questions and shit
(Hey yo, what`s up with...?) Muthafuckas questionin shit
(Shut the fuck 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 fuck 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 passed 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 ]

Bitches, get your ride on, on

Kurupt Young Gotti
Raw Dawg

Just get your ride on
Just get your ride on, homie

My nigga 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)
Bitch

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