Chamillionaire - Playas Roll lyrics

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Chamillionaire - Playas Roll lyrics

[Russell Lee] Yeaaaaaaah...Ohhhhhhh [Lucky Talking] Yeah they know what time it is.. Russel Lee in here with Happy P.. Paul Wall and Chamillionaire.. Man, it's going down.. [Chamillionaire] Ay, it look like a G in the knot but, it's not, it's three Time is money, you don't wanna chase the clock with me I squat in the drop, not a dirty spot to see Stand on top of my dough in the desert, and spot the sea My money's tall, I been born to stack chips Ignore my taxes, frame on the lack list Hop on the mattress to get p**nographic Make a move on the chick, and move on to that sis Hits, Chamillionaire he raps So she lifts up the shirt show the bra with two straps But how ironic is that, cause the boy can do that I lift up my shirt, so the boy got two straps Gotta strap up, I gotta be safe s**in So I strap up, I gotta keep a weapon It's Koopa protectin my health cause so many girls call me boo Im scared of myself, haha But they lucky, get the chedder and buck Cause me and Lucky we both be tryin a get in a vault Make bronze money turn greener than the incredible hulk But I'm pain in full, vato what you thought...Koopa [Lucky] Believe that, money ain't nothin.. Specially you bout yo business.. Ay, Russ let em' know how these playas roll.. [Chorus] [Russell Lee] I come here to let you know, just how us playas roll These boys betta pay what they owe, cause I gotta keep my money long Gotta keep on hustling, can't keep on struggeling My life, my feddi, my n***as, my family and thats all I know [Lucky Luciano] Who make yo head bob like Marley and stay Brown like Charlie Money to throw away with more green than Tommy And I'm still on my toes, I got paper to wash I keep girls every where from L.A. to the Bronx I got em pa**ing out flyers, cause you know I'm no dummy I don't play football but you feel my homecoming Im throwed, call me Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka Its funny my trunk keep doin the hooka hooka Labels keep callin cause they like my style Im so fly, I gotta a million frequent flyer miles I want her and her friend, cause I heard they dike Im at the bar with Paul, and play thursday night Chain glowing like a Darth Vader sword Full of that high grade bombay de'jour Im just a playamade mexican and my pants stay starched Traded in the Bently, for a black made bomb [Chorus] [Paul Wall] Im all about stackin green Im tryin a get whats in your wallet and the back of them jeans But theres more to life than, just facts and lean Lil momma's know I'm the mack of the team Gotta, fly honey dip on my siiide Pimp juice drippin up off my striiide Big swanges and vogues on my riiide And a college education on my smiiile There ain't nothin new under the sun Im getting my paper, this ain't just for fun I been on the grind since I was one I was in day care, hustlin gum So, I'm splurgin half my leisure I got mo' ice than yo grocers freezer And the rims keep getting steeper Till' I'm old geezer, dodging the grim reaper [Chorus]