Rick Rock - s**as Do What They Can (Real Playaz) lyrics

[Intro: Roger Troutman] Spice 1 Too Short, yup Said I'm a real playa, yeah Real playa Playa Playa Playa [Verse 1: Too Short] Whoever try to buy a new Benz, spend money on your friends Order up some sh** with a pocket full of ends Ain't no sympathy for s**ers, b**h, I'm a hustler For the last 12 years I could never get enough of That cash, I keep it in my jeans, b**h Have you ever seen it? A big pile of green sh**? When I spend it, b**h, I'm the man I do what I want, s**ers do what they can That's why I moved to the A, straight from the Bay I'm still mackin' b**hes everyday, anyway And if you don't like it, I don't give a f** I'mma still let my top down and turn this sh** up Nothin' half on my business, keep gettin' paid If n***as stick together, maybe we'll live to see the day When everybody keep ballin' like me and my folks Let these gold-diggin' b**hes count my spokes Short Dog in the house [Hook: Roger Troutman] Real playaz do what they want to s**as do what they can Real playaz do what they want to No time for strugglin' Real playaz do what they want to s**as do what they can Real playaz do what they want to Real thugs gon' hustlin' [Verse 2: Yukmouth] Hop in the Ranger Rover, mob, thrustin' this out my car sh** better be hard, ghetto celebrity star Smoke 'dro out of jelly jars Boss to be fraud, catch me at the telly with broads Havin' ménage à trois, X-ed out on the Celly with Todd "Short Dog, what's up?" He told me Roger Troutman pa**ed I hollered, my sh** about to crash Copped a block of hash, an ounce of gra** Damn! Poppin' Crystal, poured me a gla** Then poured the whole rest of the bottle out on the flow for yo' a** This's for my n***a Roger, the godfather of futuristic funk Here's the ganja, get it crunk Twist the skunk, hit it once And keep that sh** movin' and Thug n***as do what they want to, and busta n***as do what you're doin' I went from rags to riches, bagged b**hes, Jags and 6's To droppin' a solo album that's sellin' more than the last sh** did I got the streets and ave's addicted Cash it: Swiss accounts, drunk as f** in the stretch narrow strippers [Hook] [Verse 3: Spice 1] I've come from More Bounce To The Ounce to Short Dog and Roger Troutman Yukmouth, we thugged out for the money and all the power Real n***as do what they want to, s**ers do what the f** they can Self-ma-made-mu-muthaf**in-man Poppin' my collar, li-livin'; the hustler's dream Ballers fiend for cream, pockets bust out the seams Franklin and Grant is my dogs, I die for em (Die for em) C-cry, lie, ride for em (ride for em) n***a, I know You Heard It Through the Grapevine I was out here doin' it way too live Doin' way too much, I'm tryin' to touch 40 million bucks And flip a jet with some beaters, about 14 Flop through your hood, bumpin' this sh**, smokin' sticky green Thugs be hustlin', muggin' and puttin' muscle in No time for strugglin, keep your mind on bubblin' You can't see me through websites, but I still got Computer Love For my n***a Roger Troutman, cause he was ridin' with real thugs n***a [Hook] [Verse 4: Roger Troutman] Real playaz Real playaz Real Playaz Real playaz Real playaz Baby, baby, baby, baby Ooh yeah Spice 1's a real playa, baby Yeeeaaah You gotta keep on Don't you know Don't you know you better watch yourself You better watch yourself You better watch yourself You know you got to be... Yeah Don't you be trippin' in em streets, n***a Don't you be trippin' in em streets, n***a Spice 1 gon' tell you how it's really goin' down Yeah Real playa Playa Playa Playa...