[Intro]
Nigga what'chu worryin 'bout whassup with me?
What fire is that, what house I'm rollin on?
Do I holla at Curt, what's Unc doin?
What's up with Suave? Nigga you dem people {?}
[Chorus 4X: Master P]
Snitches stop callin the cops - cause I ain't playin
Better watch what you say on the block - cause I ain't playin
[Master P]
I left the hood for a week, and my name start ringin
Like I'm hustlin sellin dope, you got beef then bring it
I heard fire did this, and P.D. they trippin
That's why I sleep with two gats you never catch me slippin
I smell pussy, and most of you niggaz are rats
See I'm a dog motherf*cker and I don't f*ck with you cats
Callin me on the phone, nigga lookin for cola
How could a nigga from the hood nigga turn into the roller
This shit's so twisted, it got me trippin
Got the feds thinkin I've got birds in the kitchen
These niggaz'll throw salt in your name my nigga
Just to get a couple dollars and some fame my nigga
It ain't no loyalty, your only family'll set you up
For the right price my nigga they'll wet you up
I watched niggaz get ghost, when shit be over
How many niggaz gon' visit C, if he go to Angola
[Chorus]
[Master P]
Man this music shit political dawg, don't f*ck with it
I'd invest in somethin else if I wasn't already in it
Man most of these niggaz'll just yap they mouth
Send subliminal messages 'til shit get out
Believe none of what you hear, and half of what you see
See the rap game is dirty like the C-P-3
Most niggaz'll fear death, these streets is real black
Our radio programmers think they holdin careers back
And Hollywood bitches be ready to wife a nigga
All you need is a hit record and some ice my nigga
And the media dickriders slow up like flat tires
Seen they lil' career blow up again when shit dies
They say we ignorant and we stereotype
Even seen Michael Jackson live the criminal life
See these haters'll hate mayne, smile in your face mayne
Call them people on ya try to give you a case mayne
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Heh, he he
If y'all don't know us
Y'all better keep our name out y'all motherf*ckin mouth
Cause it's gon' get real ugly after this you feel me?
Y'all can't beat us then join us
Master P - I Aint Playn Lyrics
Master P - I Aint Playn Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
[Intro]
Nigga what'chu worryin 'bout whassup with me?
What fire is that, what house I'm rollin on?
Do I holla at Curt, what's Unc doin?
What's up with Suave? Nigga you dem people {?}
[Chorus 4X: Master P]
Snitches stop callin the cops - cause I ain't playin
Better watch what you say on the block - cause I ain't playin
[Master P]
I left the hood for a week, and my name start ringin
Like I'm hustlin sellin dope, you got beef then bring it
I heard fire did this, and P.D. they trippin
That's why I sleep with two gats you never catch me slippin
I smell pussy, and most of you niggaz are rats
See I'm a dog motherf*cker and I don't f*ck with you cats
Callin me on the phone, nigga lookin for cola
How could a nigga from the hood nigga turn into the roller
This shit's so twisted, it got me trippin
Got the feds thinkin I've got birds in the kitchen
These niggaz'll throw salt in your name my nigga
Just to get a couple dollars and some fame my nigga
It ain't no loyalty, your only family'll set you up
For the right price my nigga they'll wet you up
I watched niggaz get ghost, when shit be over
How many niggaz gon' visit C, if he go to Angola
[Chorus]
[Master P]
Man this music shit political dawg, don't f*ck with it
I'd invest in somethin else if I wasn't already in it
Man most of these niggaz'll just yap they mouth
Send subliminal messages 'til shit get out
Believe none of what you hear, and half of what you see
See the rap game is dirty like the C-P-3
Most niggaz'll fear death, these streets is real black
Our radio programmers think they holdin careers back
And Hollywood bitches be ready to wife a nigga
All you need is a hit record and some ice my nigga
And the media dickriders slow up like flat tires
Seen they lil' career blow up again when shit dies
They say we ignorant and we stereotype
Even seen Michael Jackson live the criminal life
See these haters'll hate mayne, smile in your face mayne
Call them people on ya try to give you a case mayne
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Heh, he he
If y'all don't know us
Y'all better keep our name out y'all motherf*ckin mouth
Cause it's gon' get real ugly after this you feel me?
Y'all can't beat us then join us
Nigga what'chu worryin 'bout whassup with me?
What fire is that, what house I'm rollin on?
Do I holla at Curt, what's Unc doin?
What's up with Suave? Nigga you dem people {?}
[Chorus 4X: Master P]
Snitches stop callin the cops - cause I ain't playin
Better watch what you say on the block - cause I ain't playin
[Master P]
I left the hood for a week, and my name start ringin
Like I'm hustlin sellin dope, you got beef then bring it
I heard fire did this, and P.D. they trippin
That's why I sleep with two gats you never catch me slippin
I smell pussy, and most of you niggaz are rats
See I'm a dog motherf*cker and I don't f*ck with you cats
Callin me on the phone, nigga lookin for cola
How could a nigga from the hood nigga turn into the roller
This shit's so twisted, it got me trippin
Got the feds thinkin I've got birds in the kitchen
These niggaz'll throw salt in your name my nigga
Just to get a couple dollars and some fame my nigga
It ain't no loyalty, your only family'll set you up
For the right price my nigga they'll wet you up
I watched niggaz get ghost, when shit be over
How many niggaz gon' visit C, if he go to Angola
[Chorus]
[Master P]
Man this music shit political dawg, don't f*ck with it
I'd invest in somethin else if I wasn't already in it
Man most of these niggaz'll just yap they mouth
Send subliminal messages 'til shit get out
Believe none of what you hear, and half of what you see
See the rap game is dirty like the C-P-3
Most niggaz'll fear death, these streets is real black
Our radio programmers think they holdin careers back
And Hollywood bitches be ready to wife a nigga
All you need is a hit record and some ice my nigga
And the media dickriders slow up like flat tires
Seen they lil' career blow up again when shit dies
They say we ignorant and we stereotype
Even seen Michael Jackson live the criminal life
See these haters'll hate mayne, smile in your face mayne
Call them people on ya try to give you a case mayne
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Heh, he he
If y'all don't know us
Y'all better keep our name out y'all motherf*ckin mouth
Cause it's gon' get real ugly after this you feel me?
Y'all can't beat us then join us