| They say
|
| I like my bitches by the toast
|
| I pay three hundred for the fame
|
| And now my niggas gonna show
|
| We don’t play that (bodies on top of bodies)
|
| (Bodies on top of bodies) We don’t play that
|
| (Bodies on top of bodies, bodies on top of bodies)
|
| We don’t play that (all I see is blood and murder)
|
| (And bodies on top of bodies) We don’t play that
|
| (All I see is blood and murder, and bodies on top of bodies)
|
| We don’t play that
|
| Maseratis on Maseratis
|
| Morazi’s and more Moradies
|
| Hotties on top of hotties
|
| That’s a body on top of body
|
| I ran shotty and I gotta shotty
|
| Got ladders on top of ladders
|
| Keep the cat on top of bladder
|
| And I drop it bad where it doesn’t matter, nigga
|
| Wearing cappa now matching robbers
|
| To play, imma catch a body
|
| I pull up, I drive up, the choppers
|
| They pouncing, the kilos, don’t tell nobody
|
| Put a beam on a fucking shotty
|
| That coke we sell in Mali
|
| I need a lot of money, don’t play with that bag
|
| Cause tomorrow I go see Pappy
|
| For the two five, hit him with the tek shot
|
| Run down when I’m trying to get the best shot
|
| For them Benz I hit him with the hay shot
|
| We’d a made a hundred Benz at the next spot
|
| If you put it on the script, make sure the bread coming back
|
| The chemical nigga, dump the lead off the strap
|
| Just got word that the feds coming back
|
| Imma hold them with some dose and drugs in the back
|
| I’m all in the biz with my feeder
|
| Running my fingers through a C-cup
|
| Sipping my drink out a tea cup
|
| You bitch won’t fuck with a G huh?
|
| Nigga I show you, probably got a half of the ton
|
| Let a nigga get none, same color
|
| Seek some, hope another trap in town
|
| Let a young nigga get none
|
| I put bodies on bodies
|
| Seeing shooters on shooters
|
| I put hitters on hitters, and killers that kill us
|
| We load up them choppas
|
| Then we hop on like ninjas that never surrender
|
| No pris for reason, that three how he handle his business
|
| I never look slapping, I’m leaving no winners
|
| I bow with the oak on the ginny
|
| Bodies on top of bodies
|
| Shoot up them motherrati
|
| [?[ on barrel like old Jorabi
|
| When I’m on the block, I feel like Shaqueil
|
| You flexing on Twitter that beef ain’t for real
|
| I’m still in the hood, and I’m keeping it real
|
| I don’t know what you want
|
| But I’m showing it kill |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Don't Play That, artist - Jim Jones. Album song Miami Vampin, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп