Lyrics I Dont Play with Guns - Juicy J

I Dont Play with Guns

Gotta go get my nigga Alley Boy
Y’all niggas know the business
Project Pat
We gettin' this money, man
Real shit, real spit
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
I don’t gun-play
Cause I don’t play with guns
Trying to find out where I stay?
Bitch, I stay with guns
I ride with my guns like I ride with my niggas
All my niggas ride with guns and they will kill ya
I don’t gun-play
Cause I don’t play with guns
Trying to find out where I stay?
Bitch, I stay with guns
I ride with my guns like I ride with my niggas
All my niggas ride with guns and they will kill ya
These niggas run they mouth
Gonna get that ass served
Guns on deck;
bitch, I keep 'em on reserve
Nigga, I’m all over these streets
Ho, I’m like the curb
Trigger finger itching —
I done struck a nerve
Asking for this beef, I’mma do the favor
Let em get these hollow tips, like he a waiter
I’m on my Waka shit, I love them gun sounds
Shooting niggas' shit up and shooting niggas down
You gonna get what you want bitch, keep asking
No need for a funeral, it’s a closed casket (yessir!)
Hot bullets on the menu, nigga place your order (yessir!)
Then it’s nothin' but yellow tape and news reporters
I don’t gun-play
Cause I don’t play with guns
Trying to find out where I stay?
Bitch, I stay with guns
I ride with my guns like I ride with my niggas
All my niggas ride with guns and they will kill ya
I don’t gun-play
Cause I don’t play with guns
Trying to find out where I stay?
Bitch, I stay with guns
I ride with my guns like I ride with my niggas
All my niggas ride with guns and they will kill ya
All of my niggas raw
All of my niggas kill
Keep the brick licked
We were hood-rich before we had a deal
All of the homies drawn out, A-Town, working
Blown trap.
Y’all niggas all rap
Put them all up on the map
Trigger play all ready
Headshots — real talking
Add up our word: all the nonbelievers in white chalk
Trump nigga, talk shit
No one ain’t doing shit
I’m still at em nigga
Run around on one leg
Still safe and 3 6 cleaned up nigga: bullshit
40 bands on each wrist but a pussy nigga ain’t takin shit
Money major, straight Drop nigga whole brick
I bust for Project and Juicy J like I’m 3 6
I’m on the North side of Memphis
You could come get this
Shooting 50-round drums at you son of bitches
For my riches I’ll murk you on the front porch
Blood on my money like that phone on the full floor
Pockets used to be malnutrition — Cambodian
Come through with a K and sweep your hood like the custodian
Throw a couple of bands, throw a couple of bows
Who wants to kill for me?
Bring em on a couple of shows
If you ain’t from my hood, then you can get it quicker
My niggas ride with that K since they full of liquor
Cause they full of fiends, cause they full of green
Stay with this shit, nawmean?