Black Thought - We Not Playing lyrics

[Verse 1: Black Thought] Hey yo, kickin' wicked rhymes like a fortune teller 95' I made the world illadel' Hey yo, kickin' wicked rhymes like a fortune teller 95' I made the world illadel' Word up, Money Making Jam Boys --Jam Boy Magic, that's what's knockin' You know what I'm sayin' Hey yo, kickin' wicked rhymes like a fortune teller 95' I made the world illadelph Yo, hella jawns up on my top The Money Making Jam Boys, when it's gon' drop Girls screaming that's them, his watch look like Big Ben And when I rocks the mic I get raw Raw like a n***a that's sick and ticked off Two-fifteen get the cream, got a thing for hustlin' Guns get to bussin', cat's ain't sayin' nothin' Bet you was another Black Inc. production Roll a huff, and puff and blow the house down The champion sound is in your town Get down or get smoked, and this I quote To me, the game lookin' funny as an inside joke You could believe I'mma go directly at ya'll throat Until my names on the walk of fame like Bob Hope Baby doll, bust a sketch don't forget We rolled on the set, you all broke your neck Them girls hissin' at me like Maxell ca**ettes You trying to come at the jam, don't hold your breath Unless, I, take you, to the motel You, take me, to the hotel Coming at ya'll like a check in the mail I'm not an only child, got a brother in jail It's Philly, P-A, yo, we not for the play, yo You can't run or hide, we be on your trail Son, you know my squad got it all for sale Motherf**er, you know what I'm saying [Hook] Money making jam boys, b**h, they not playin' Money making jam boys, b**h, they not playin' Money making jam boys, b**h, they not playin' Money making jam boys, b**h, they not playin' [Verse 2: Truck North] Truck North, my lines express awareness And while ya'll talk the scared sh** You fear b**h, I'm at the top of the pile But no goma is sweatin' my style Cause' I'm building, next level, more trouble The Money Making Jam Boys go hard for the yards, Earl Campbell And I must prevail North side too fresh to be stale I stay ill beyond 10,000 So if you see me in the party I'm housing Then I'm recruiting all the jam girls They drip for me like jheri curls So I got to keep a towel in the back When it rains and it pours, umbrellas and all that, sh** I am an orator, green leaf connoisseur How could a team be more raw than this four They want more kid north, got enough for four broads Wake a n***a up, thinking he can beat me I got a song from the hymns to the [creceeds?] You walk around with no protection And get mad cause the Jam Boys flexin' They couldn't pa** inspection Because where I'm from you'll need your weapon I'm like a beamer with fuel injection Concave, convex full perception Mean streets cause sa**y diaeresis And all I got is little bad b**hes sweatin' us You know what I'm sayin' [Hook] [Verse 3: P.O.R.N.] They say life ain't sh** but pimps and tricks And everybody gets f**ed cause the game is fixed Some dance with the devil, others dance for tips Rather die from a bullet than a nasty bid Rather live on the run, than [?] for crumbs Rather see if I can swim in a bottle of rum You can't feel a bullet if you're already numb Bite a shell before I bite my tongue I'm built for the guild and the filth dope white as the milk In the dirty diaper bag, in the room in the Hil' I'm made for the blade, that's made in the cage That's the stash in your a** when the C.O. raid?] In the nighttime, [alute lust to war?] Won't break fast, but down to break the law In love with a [s?] I can't seem to ignore Baby, I ain't sure - Money Making Jam Boys [Hook] [Verse 4: Dice Raw] Yo, I see all you cornballs spitting all them stale raps And me still sounding like a hellcat See you at the mall wylin' on the sale rack Then at the register crying over sales tax Saw your old girl, told me how she fell back And all she want to know is where the Jam Boys at But she don't know raw who gets so raw A-yo, I break into her minds with a crowbar But all I really need is a toothpick Because I'm too slick, manipulate too quick Yo, I'm a rude boy spitting all that rude sh** My cause like Easy-E, you know, ruthless I'm back at it, yeah, about to snatch it Mister automatic, mister-mister cinematic I'm mister old school, DJ mister magic Let a hundred shots rip, no one will miss you ba*tards But I'mma turn n***as into addicts Cause I know that ya'll smoking that babbot And ya'll broke, and ya'll get more for your buck You know your girl let me throw dollar bills in her bu*t She a s*ut, I told you not to mess with that chick at draws-drop Quick for any n***a with [t...?] my life a movie Where I'm freestyling a script, Denzel Washington or Forest Whitaker, I'm Will Smith [Hook]