Dwight Grant - Don't Stop lyrics

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Dwight Grant - Don't Stop lyrics

[Hook - Snoop Dogg] Ma! I think it's safe to say You ain't seen a playa lay this way Or playa game this way Wit a attitude, like - and ya don't stop Aficionado, so fashionable Wit a confident swagger, international Game so tight the girls had to go And you don't stop! [Verse - Beanie Sigel] Hah! sicka than your average Money too long can't stash it In the closet or the mattress Paper, stretch like elastic Checks from advances, the bank can't cash it So the price for that, never ask it Just sign my name or pop plastic Hating a** cops wanna harra** em Searching for a Glock in the pocket of his fashion b**hes wit SP stitches on they a**es And they left breast (yes!) Let's get dressed and toast to the occasion Cops couldn't page em, flow so amazing, hot like Cajun You f**ing wit the champ Pop corks on champ' like I just took the chip n***a took the stand when he coulda took the 5th Yeah eat a dick wit AIDS on the tip, keep my name off ya lips Not guilty! [Hook] [Verse - Beanie Sigel] I said I'm sicka than your average Keep three shooters like the Mavericks Short to the point like Nash is, f**ing wit a savage n***as press they luck, get bucked like ashes Three piece suits, linen fabrics Three quarter croc, sharper than a pastor B Sig bring the light to the ma**es Of these rap ba*tards, who gives street pa**es One shooting can lead to three caskets Jump suits, state boots, at least three stabbings You softer than a Reebok Cla**ic Folding under pressure when confronted by them badges I was taught stay low and keep blasting Po only know questions that was answered Keep a number on the high price lawyer It's five ways nowadays, everybody saw ya [Hook] [Bridge - repeat 2x] [SD] Now let's toast to the man, that when he get out That he gon do them thangs that he rap about A true playa Pha-real [Pharrell] [BS] Haters stay out my face And know that thing still by my waist [Verse - Beanie Sigel] Once again I'm sicker then 'em all n***as see Sig start sh**ting in they drawers When I kick in the door, stop the blood clot crying Wipe the piss off the floor The ape is back, my gate is cracked My jumpsuit and my cuffs is off Yeah I'm back on them bricks Raise your cups and raise your gla** And let's toast to the boy B Mack, yeah I'm back in the mix! [Hook]