Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm a Playa, artist - Paul Wall. Album song The People's Champ, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.07.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Atlantic
Song language: English
I'm a Playa |
Yessir, SwishaHouse! |
DJ Paul and Juicy J productions |
Paul Wall, SwishaHouse, Hypnotize Minds, Three 6 Maf-i-UHH! |
It’s goin down |
Eighty-fo's (eighty-fo's) candy paint (candy paint) |
Switchin lanes (switchin lanes) sippin drank (sippin drank) |
It’s Paul Wall baby yeah that’s me, these hoes wanna know what I’m 'bout |
Princess cuts all on my neck and on my wrist and in my mouth |
Do’s open, do’s close, where’s the camera I’ll strike a pose |
I’m still ridin on elbows, in eighty-threes and eighty-fo's |
The gangsta slab is what I flip, woodgrain is what I grip |
That purple drank is what I sip, in my cell phone keep a chip |
I’m talkin bid’ness I put it down, I’m choppin blades and I’m poppin shrooms |
I’m from the land of that fry smoke, got plex I got the pump |
Weighted trunk and chunk the deuce, keep it movin I’m on the prowl |
I’m on the hunt for some one night love, best believe that it’s goin down |
Money and hoes, cars and clothes, diamond rings and ice grills |
SwishaHouse we keep it trill, and hold it down baby what’s the deal |
We put them 47 inch jelly screens in them Escalade |
We po’that purple drank straight up like it’s that Kool-Aid |
We like them girls that eat it up and never be afraid |
While you cry but ask how they givin up the fade |
Ye ain’t got screens if they ain’t touch screen |
with the removable screen, lookin mean on the scene |
When hoes see me they sayin everybody ain’t able |
Cause I turned the back of my Caddy pickup into a pool table |
Juicy J, I’m the mayne, got the G’s, fuck the fame |
See a lil’freak, run some game, and she goin I’ma take some brain |
I’m on the slab, posted up, white Cadillac with the white guts |
I’m on the scene, drankin lean, mixed with Spire in a plastic cup |
I’m from the hood, call it North, where Project Pat went to jail and court |
But now he back on the Southern bricks, we gon’drink a lot and players smoke |
Newport |
Uptown, hit the blush, or watch these diamonds blind you up Nothin but self-made millionaires so you can shut the fuuuuuuuuuck |
I got a deep freezer up on my neck and sno-cones up in my ear |
A ice tray up in my mouth, I’m lookin somethin like a chandelier |
You can call me the ice man, I cause a blizzard every time I breathe |
Posted up on that South Lee, with Big Mix and my boy Lil’Heat |
Where’s the drank I’m runnin low, Cabbage Head told me it’s a drought |
But not to worry dough never doubt, I’ll go to the doctor with a cough |
It’s Paul Wall baby that’s my name, fly like a plane what it do |
I drop the top of my potnah plaque and chunk the deuce to that boy Gooch |
Just like a midget I’m sittin low, and like a snail I’m crawlin slow |
Where’s Mike, where’s Bawdy, he on the grind ducked on the low |
Yeah I like my music slow, yeah I like my train mud |
I’m chopped up by Michael Watts, it’s Paul Wall baby that’s what’s up |
«I'm a playa, ain’t no doubt, hoes wanna know what I’m 'bout» |
«I'm a playa, I’m a playa, I’m a playa, I’m a playa…» |