Yung Joc, Big Gee - Don't Play Wit It lyrics

What it is man (sup?)
Yung Joc, Block Entertainment
Yeah, you wan' know somethin?
(What'chu wanna know nigga?)
I'ma take this motherfuckin time to
Let y'all niggas know
I'm tired of playin games i'm
Tired of playin wit'chu man
(Preach on) Y'all niggas comin up
Short on your money
Your re-up shit ain't right (nope, nope)
Your grams off nigga, get that shit right
(Tell 'em shawty) Let me talk to y'all

This ain't make believe so why
The fuck is you playin
You better listen close to what
The fuck I'm sayin
Cause really all it takes is a couple grand
Like AT&T I reach out and I touch a man
Or I can let it go cause it ain't nuttin man
But naw it's the principle so
Fuck what you sayin
E'ry dollar I want it, e'ry dime I need that
So when it's time to break
Bread gimme no feedback (shhh)
Cause you don't want to piss me off
And I get to poppin like we poppin Cristal
See I cain't help it
That's just how we get down
Let off a couple rounds
Turn your smile to a frown
Yeahhh I know, you think I'm bluffin
'Til I kick the do' and
The goons they rush in
Lay down on the flo' where
You keep the coke in
You say "I don't know" then
Your blood start gushin

I done told your ass once
(once) told your ass twice (twice)
Fuckin with my paper
You're fuckin wit'cha life (wit'cha life)
Don't play with it don't play with it
Don't play with it nigga don't play with it

Here he come once again Mr murder Man
Smokin on the purple bad
Pistol in my other hand
Fuckin with my rubberbands get
Your ass murdered fast
Chop you up and chop ya
Then stuff ya in a duffel bag
Ride wit'cha in the trunk 'til ya smellin bad
Get your daughter after class
Ride by snatch her ass
I know a pussy nigga owe me a couple stack
Pop him like he never had
But the nigga holdin back (nah)
I ain't trippin now I'm lettin 'em pass
Got that ass so I'm in the good
Nigga smokin like a thermostat
Flashin hella stacks, pie nigga Pontiac
Actin for these hoes with my money
What kinda shit is that?
I ain't feelin that
Pay me for my fuckin pack
E'ry dime off e'ry zone, don't gimme that
(nah)
See it time for the chrome, go on pull it out
Sad Sunday service for the sucker
In the parking lot

Better know the repercussions fuckin
With my dividends
Yeah I got a hitman for the hitmen
Leave your baby momma numb and
I touch many fans
If ye ain't tryin to see it
I suggest you start prayin
All I'm sayin don't try to
Play me like I'm soft
Treat you like mosquitoes when I
Skeet you with that Off
That Joc crawl blood, nigga call me Red Cross
Leave your wig leakin like
You spilled spaghetti sauce

Fuckin with my paper - ye ain't right
I'ma send them gators - in
The middle of the night
Let 'em split your tater - in front your wife
No one can save ya - put out your lights

C'mon man
That ain't how you do the shit bruh
Out'chea playin with a nigga money and shit
That ain't the shit to be fuckin with
It's hard out'chea in these streets nigga
Fuckin people fuckin wit'cha
Niggas rattin and shit
That ain't what's up dawg
It's the big dawg Diesel
Yung Joc in the building, ya heard me?