8Ball, Mysonne, Ma$e - Do What Playas Do lyrics

Uhh (uhh) wanna blow?
(Wanna blow?) Pretty Tone (Pretty Tone)
Suave House
(suave House) Eightball (Eightball)
Tony Draper (Draper)
All Out (All Out) , Murder (Murder)
Harlem World (Harlem World)
Problem children (problem children)
Y'all niggas got problems
(y'all niggas got problems)
Uhh (uhh) UHH (UHH) Yo (YO)

Now I can play with these hoes
Or spray four-fours
Whatever the situation, may call for
I can sport linen, pimp hard, court women
Have the ice, and the waves all spinnin
Or I can get in, to some real thug shit
Armed robbery, slash, deal drug shit
Peel slugs quick, cause I'm versatile
I can ice grill, but I'm worse when I smile
Expert with style, y'all give hoes cash
All I give em
Is hard dick and coke in they ass
Bitch, move that, true playa, true dat
Niggas catch feelings, when they chick say
"Who dat?" representin from the Bronx
To the Dirty South
Spittin drug flows, with my dirty mouth
We got it all, from grams to Eightballs
Yeah we players, and refs, we make calls

Now everybody wanna do what a playa do
But everybody can't do what a playa do
(I see you playa) All in the mix right
I see you playa (yeah I got my shit tight)

Bring it to niggas I don't
Be slippin on my literary
Sick when I'm gone off that
Jane first name Mary
Eightball, ain't no other like
This Southern brother
Crazy motherfucker, pooh butt booty duster
Never been a point shaver or a hoe saver
Just a weed craver, Suave House assassinator
To the dirt
And we gon' put that on the House bitch
Gold in the mouth shit, straight South shit
Orange Mound slow the flow down
To pull the fo'-pound beat a hoe down
And fall up in the club to' down
I like them dirty hoes
Down to get buck for a dollar
Thick yella Cinderella, head shop scholar
Pimp shit
And I'ma keep it straight +Space Age+
Every year
Turn the book of life to a new page
Kick rhymes hotter than Texas in July
Suave House playa til the day that I die, uhh

Sauve House motherfucker
All Out motherfucker
Wanna blow motherfucker? Team nigga
Til I'm low motherfucker
Yo, I went from O T to O-C to all the paper
Lee's to fatigues then Gore's to gators
If ain't about the money nigga? Call me later
How many niggas talk Benzes? Seen in one
Not videos and picture shit
Those don't count
I'm the nigga talkin millions and
Own the amount
Mr frosty, the nigga never fold for chips
When the money on the line bitch I roll trips
Cut a bitch off for a week and
Let her know what she miss
Hundred grand worth of shit nigga
Glow on my wrist
Bought a range just to go with the six
When I flip for these chips
Shit is never over a bitch
You got some nerve, I can
Give a kiler one word, get em
You will see how many niggas miss him
I put pellets in the air let the shit hit em
Put the gun inside his mouth and
Let the clip kiss him
Shit you drive all tinted
I put my honey in it won't, stop your bank
Ain't enough money in it
Live a lifestyle rarely told
What you know about
Floatin down Eighth, gettin head in the Rolls
You had
Money like that you wouldn't be measurin O's
You motherfuckers barely sold, barely gold
Niggas send it rough I send it
Back the same way it came
You ain't dissin me until you say my name
Motherfucker