Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song You Played Yourself, artist - Ice T. Album song The Complete Sire Albums 1987 - 1991, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.11.2013
Record label: Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
You Played Yourself |
Verse 1 |
This is it, dope from the fly kid |
The Ice mic is back with the high bid |
Suckers you’ve lost cos players you’re not, gangstas you ain’t |
You’re faintin', punk, if you ever heard a gunshot |
Yo, the pusher, the player, the pimp gangsta, the hustler |
High Roller, dead pres folder |
Is cold lampin' like a black king on a throne |
Evil E… turn up the microphone |
So I can I’ll and break on the rollin' tape |
Another album to make? |
Great |
Islam turn the bass kick up a bit |
Hype the snare, now I got a place to sit |
And ride the track like a black mack in his 'lac |
Hit the corner slow where the girls are at And kick game the way it should be done |
How you gonna drop science? |
You’re dumb |
Stupid ignorant, don’t even talk to me At school you dropped Math, Science and History |
And then you get on the mic and try to act smart |
Well let me tell you one thing, you got heart |
To perpetrate, you’re bait, so just wait |
Till the press shove a mic in your face |
Or you meet Boogie Down or Chuck D Stetsasonic or the Big Daddy |
And they ask you about the game you claim you got |
Drop science now, why not? |
You start to sweat and fret, it gets hot |
How’d you get into this spot? |
You played yourself… |
Yo, yo, you played yourself… |
Verse 2 |
I’m no authority but I know the D-E-A-L |
When it comes to dealin' with the females |
What you got they want, cash is what they need |
Slip sucker and they’ll break you with speed |
But you meet a freak, you try to turn her out |
Spendin' money’s what I’m talkin' about |
But you fool out, your pockets got blew out |
And after the date, no boots, you got threw out |
Mad and shook cos your duckets got took |
Call her up, phone’s off the hook |
But who told you to front and flaunt your grip? |
You can’t buy no relationship |
You played yourself… |
Yo, homeboy, you played yourself… |
Verse 3 |
I’m in the MC game, a lot of MC’s front |
And for the money they’re sell out stunts |
But they claim that they’re rich and that they keep cash |
Yo, let me straighten this out fast |
Two hundred thousand records sold |
And these brothers start yellin' 'bout gold? |
You better double that, then double that again |
And still don’t get sooped, my friend |
You think you’ve made it, you’re just a lucky man |
Guess who controls your destiny, fans |
But you diss 'em cos you think you’re a star |
That attitude is rude, you won’t get far |
Cos they’ll turn on you quick, you’ll drop like a brick |
Unemployment’s where you’ll sit |
No friends cos you dissed 'em too |
No money, no crew, you’re through |
You played yourself… |
That’s right, you played yourself… |
You played yourself… |
Yo, yo, you played yourself… |
Verse 4 |
You got problems, you claim you need a break |
But every dollar you get you take |
Straight to the Dopeman, try to get a beam up Your idle time is spent tryna scheme up Another way to get money for a jumbo |
When you go to sleep you count Five-O's |
Lyin' and cheatin', everybody you’re beatin' |
Dirty clothes and you’re skinny cos you haven’t been eatin' |
You ripped off all your family and your friends |
Nowhere does your larceny end |
And then you get an idea for a big move |
An armed robbery… smooth |
But everything went wrong, somebody got shot |
You couldn’t get away, the cops roll, you’re popped |
And now you’re locked, yo, lampin' on Death Row |
Society’s fault? |
No Nobody put the crack into the pipe |
Nobody made you smoke off your life |
You thought that you could do dope and still stay cool? |
Fool. |
You played yourself… |
You played yourself… |
Ain’t nobody else’s fault, you played yourself. |