| How much money’s enough? |
| Think maybe like the trillion figures
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| Pray my daughter don’t wild like the Hilton sisters
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| That’d kill me yo, filthy rich
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| My daughter pass it on to the next generation
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| Throwing carnations at my tombstone
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| In my new home
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| Meet moms in my Yves St. Laurent suit on Then we do a dance like my man Luther jam
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| But my verse came first
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| I stole change out her purse
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| Now I wanna dig her up outta the earth
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| Too morbid, learn forward toward a new paragraph
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| Blue carats, D-Class
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| Strictly that kush in the weed bag
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| Tryna figure out what Berry Gordy had put in production
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| Studio smoky now, hard like David Ruffin
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| Hit a spliff through a s? |
| ance, and I, play on playa
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| Finest females I spit game on, I sprayed her
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| Gotta get your papes on, play on playa
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| Before it’s all gone, sip Dom, tip waiters
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| Do the yacht thing, m? |
| nage swing, baby
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| Spendin’dubs on your buzz, gotta live crazy
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| Finest females I spit game on, I sprayed her
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| Get your papes on, play on playa
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| Get your papes on, play on playa
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| Get your papes on Ruby red grapefruit juice with Grey Goose
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| Rubies in Hey-Zeus piece
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| Pimped out like Snoop be, but an East Coast thing
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| My girl stock-ing tied up in a knot, top of my bean head
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| Billion dollar dream hear
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| Went from triple beams to digital
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| Serving fiends, the minimal
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| 60 G’s, no criminal
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| No mo', Just mo’doe
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| Mimosas pouring, Oprah’s earrings on fingers
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| While your girl performs cunnilingus
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| 'Cause this big money aroma lingers
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| Barber cleans his blade, then he give me a fade
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| Hot towel on the face
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| Hot models who vomit after they eat so they can stay lightweight
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| Swallowing my protein like an Ovaltine shake
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| Come through like Moe Green from Godfather, so clean
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| Where I step, I Clorox it Keep 20 G’s on both sides of the thighs, that’s four pockets
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| Eighty thousand, browse for the nicest price
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| But we ain’t into buying Conflict Ice
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| That’s the shit they stole from the Congo and other black soil
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| True mack for you
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| Nappy hair, just spinnin'
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| Honey gave me a massage with the happy ending
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| Finest females I just came on, and sprayed her
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| Gotta get your papes on, play on playa
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| Finest females I spit game on, I sprayed her
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| Gotta get your papes on, play on playa
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| Before it’s all gone, sip Dom, tip waiters
|
| Do the yacht thing, m? |
| nage swing, baby
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| Spendin’dubs on your buzz, gotta live crazy
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| Finest females I spit game on, I sprayed her
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| Get your papes on, play on playa
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| It’s kinda hard for a playa like you
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| But let me show you how a nigga like me get revenue
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| What you never do Is punk out, what you better do Never let the game get ahead of you
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| Get a better view
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| Better yet a better crew
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| Praise God, I’ma marry you
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| Get your homie, carry you, bury you
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| Slowly, roll me another blunt stuff it Lick it, puff it, tuck it — fuck it That man, that gang, that bang it was
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| In D-O double G we trust
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| Yep yep, young loc with the two step
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| He creepin’with two Tecs
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| He’s sleepin’with two chicks
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| Right before he blast, all you heard was two clicks (blaw)
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| End of existence, for instance
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| Rewind it, replay it, re-chop it, remix it Re-twist it, god damn D-O double G, cause we missed it Travel slow, I’m a Indian but not a Navajo
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| I smoke the big leaf in all the big deef’s
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| My hair in two braids, I’m the big Chief
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| Ladahdah be dahdadah
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| Yeah break that down, how fresh ya are
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| The king from Queens, Mr. Escobar
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| Connect with the best from the west, yes yes ya are
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| Oh my God, it’s Snoop Dogg and Nas
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| Playa play on… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Play On Playa , by - Nas. Song from the album Hip Hop Is Dead, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп