Ab-Soul - Play This on the Radio lyrics

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Ab-Soul - Play This on the Radio lyrics

[Verse 1: Jay Rock] I paid dues for the men I slay Roaches in the kitchen, so the feds come with the raid I'm never afraid, aimed a camera at your frame Then snapped like a n***a that's goin' insane My momma said, "Grab a coat You know it's supposed to rain?" I said, "Momma, you ain't heard I am a hurricane?" Katrina with ninas, rob you for your stock exchange Economy's goin' down, but I'm okay Got the juice and I know O. J. Simpson delivered the cuts Listen too hard, it might shrivel you up Still liftin' it up, this the motherf**in' get up n***a, you ain't fit, look at my motherf**in' get up Tell a b**h, "Sit down", then tell a b**h to get up Go and get my monies, s** a dick until you hiccup Hop out the Martin, jump inside a pickup Met papi at the doc, give me the work, this a stick-up [Hook: Jay Rock and Ab-Soul] When your album comin' out? Let them p**y-n***as know Ten thousand for a verse? Let them p**y-n***as know Is you a real Blood? Let them p**y-n***as know Let them p**y-n***as know Let them p**y-n***as know Is you really from the hood? Let them p**y-n***as know Did you really sell d**? Let them p**y-n***as know Do you really pop slugs? Let them p**y-n***as know Let them p**y-n***as know Let them p**y-n***as know [Verse 2: Jay Rock] Turn fifty cent into two quarter ounces Set up shop on your block and have two workin' houses b**hes comin' in and out, smokers comin' in and out This is real beef, I suggest you go to In-N-Out Take it from me, I get aroused by the paramedics Putin' out stretchers, they help you to breathe Clear, what, you can't hear? I'll be back with a drum, stay right here I'm off Belve and rum, and that sh** don't mix So you can imagine how ignorant I really can get Straight lunatic, but I ain't Nelly or the Lunatics I'm ghetto as chicken and beer, this Watts n***a ludicrous Hello from (?), halo still on your head That's when I shoot again, cotton heaven straight ahead Mazda car, (?), where's your b**h? I'm hara**in' her [Hook] [Verse 3: Jay Rock] Live from the city of gunplay Where guns play like kids in a sandbox on Sundays Only get it one way just like a dude's street Diamonds on a Blood, but this not a Blue Streak I ain't got to disrespect a Crip for respect Matter fact, I'll call one right now, he's a wrap I told y'all, didn't believe me I had to bogart from the Nickersons to the Imperial Courts We go hard, I'm a gangsta still, move keys like Mozart Low-key like a locksmith on his knees What you need, I got it, please believe, it's not a problem Weed or powder, just give me about an hour Feelin' dirty in the bank, 'bout to take a money shower Said, "Don't grow old trees - I got a money plower"