Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Playing With Fire, artist - Lil Wayne.
Date of issue: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Playing With Fire |
So you’ve got so many diamonds |
You wear all the finest clothes |
And your grill is shining |
As you’re driving down the streets of gold |
But you can’t blame me |
If I set this stage on fire |
Ha! |
Ha! |
Momma always told me I was crazy |
And my hoes say I’m amazing, but I don’t listen to a lady |
But the bitch say I’m hot, and I say «No bitch, I’m blazing» |
Like, what the fuck you expect? |
I’m a motherfucking Cajun |
I feel caged in my mind, it’s like my flow doing time |
I goes crazy inside, but when it comes out—it's fine |
Like wine; |
wait, watch… |
See? |
I get better with time like a watch |
Osh B’Gosh, Posh Spice husband |
Couldn’t kick it like I kick it, bitch! |
I Kix it |
No cereal, like a landing, I sticks it |
Wherever she asks me, after she licks it |
«That's too explicit»; |
well, why you listening? |
That’s her pussy |
So, hey, pussy: play with pussy or play pussy |
But you can’t blame me |
If I set this stage on fire |
Hahahaha! |
They say, «You're nobody 'til somebody kills you |
Well, where I’m from, you’re nobody 'til you kill somebody |
And you know what they say: when you great |
It’s not «murder,» it’s «assassinate» |
So assassinate me, bitch |
'Cause I’m doing the same shit Martin Luther King did |
Checking in the same hotel, in the same suite, bitch |
Same balcony, like, «Assassinate me, bitch!» |
It’s Lil Tunechi |
I don’t rap, I film movies |
With my rap, you could call me |
«Mr. |
Director’s Chair,» yeah, and that’s a wrap |
Cut! |
On to the next… |
Not the next scene, bitch, the next check |
Some say the X makes the sex 'spec- |
So play with the pussy or play pussy |
So you’ve got so many diamonds |
Hey, pussy, lay pussy |
You wear all the finest clothes |
Do what I… say, pussy, and I say, I say |
And your grill is shining |
Lay pussy, lay pussy, lay, pussy, haha |
As you’re driving down the streets of gold |
Hey, pussy, haha! |
But you can’t blame me |
Hey pussy, don’t play pussy |
If I set this stage on fire! |
Get 'em! |
Straight off the corner of Apple and Eagle |
Braveheart, bitch, like the times are medieval |
Married to the game, divorced the cathedral |
Standing on the corner selling porcelain to people |
Forced into evil, it’s all in your head |
It’s all so cerebral, call me Knievel |
You follow and I lead you, straight to the needles |
The bottles, the battles, the beetles’ll eat you |
Momma named Cita—I love you, Cita |
'Member when your pussy second husband tried to beat ya? |
'Member when I went into the kitchen, got the cleaver? |
He ain’t give a fuck, I ain’t give a fuck neither |
He could see the devil, see the devil in my features |
He could smell the ether, you can see Cita |
You can see the Cita, see the Cita in my features |
And she don’t play neither |
But you can’t blame me |
If I set this stage on fire! |
C3, 3Peat |