Mr. 3-2 - Don't Play lyrics

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Mr. 3-2 - Don't Play lyrics

(*talking*) Y2K-1, the game has just begun Go down, S.U.C. don't play won't play All day hogging, better get it Go get it, and come back with it (Mr. 3-2) 2001, living in big houses big Benzes Mr. 3-2, gon get paid to the ending Mind on winning, big faces spending The thug life of men is, mashing but no chicken Yellow bone women, or the sugar browns Sweet blacks, bring my stacks back from out of town You know how I get down, real down and dirty Mafia lifestyle, I don't think that you heard me We gangstas still moving birdies, till thangs get better Cheddar recognize cheddar, I'm a big head go-getter In any kind of weather, cause I'm a universal playa Able to blend in, in the ditch or anywhere Baby I'm a baller, you ain't recognize that I stay looking good, and my bank account fat So pull out the red plack, I'ma take my respect Cause I'm real to this game, a true O.G. vet (Hook) Won't play, don't play Never did, ever since a little bitty kid - 2x Mob with us, or get mobbed over You should of listened, to what your mama told ya Mob bosses, accepting no losses in the struggle Let your mouth overlook your a**, you in trouble (H.A.W.K.) Don't play, won't play never did Split your wig, smoke a cig Do you dig, what I'm saying I ain't playing I'll get the gat and start spraying, so start praying Gun in my lap, as I quietly creep I'm bout to roll down the window, and put the whole block to sleep I'm playing for keeps, I'm in this sh** to win Like a gauge spinning slugs, straight through your abdomen A right cross through your chin, God forgive me for my sins But n***az don't comprehend, that I don't have no friends Representing Dead End, till the casket close And real playas get chose, but f** these nothing-a** hoes H-A-Dub-K, till I'm old and grey And if you get out of line, it's may-day may-day You better move out my way, when you cross me in these streets Or back-back back-back, and give me fifty feet (Hook) (BZE) Won't play don't play, never did my n***a Hogging since a kid, my n***a In your face with Street Game, B-Zo got official Gulf Coast Texas raised, rich n***a That's that n***a untamed, with my partna Jack Tripper That really don't play, run around with a gauge To get that AK, n***a top done raised Put on them Gucci shades, up on it displays We don't play never did, pop the lid it sooths the soul H-A-W-K, make 'em pay the toll Southside still hold, you n***az and b**h no friends That's straight from my T. Lady, straight to my kid I won't play co*ked and ready, from my partna Hard Boy For realer life Street Game, n***a that's my entourage Don't forget about my click n***a, they stay on the thoed I won't say your name n***a, you know how it go we don't play n***a (Hook)