Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Playa Don't, artist - Z-Ro. Date of issue: 14.04.2003
Song language: English
Playa Don't |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah |
| Don’t hate, don’t hate yeah |
| Playa don’t hate me, hate the game |
| Cause you see me coming down up on your slab, swanging thangs |
| Playa don’t hate me, hate the game |
| Cause you see me coming down up on your slab, chopping blades |
| Playa don’t hate me hate the game, ain’t got no time |
| To be out here bullshitting, I’m out here trying to make some change |
| Be solo twisting I’m a Mo City soldier, I thought I told ya |
| Roll with us, or get your ass rolled over |
| See we all about our feddy, pulling up on chrome |
| Nigga for real ask G.I.N., or you can ask Chad Jones |
| Baby we Presidential playas showing up, all these gon mind |
| Everyone of us diaomoned down, bet you all them hoes gon shine |
| We living lovely sipping Bubbly, all the cars are foreign |
| Ain’t no jackers we barring, cause we ready for warring |
| I’m the king like Tarzan, but mine is swinging on a vine |
| We swanging on 84's, and chopping in a line |
| Houston Texas the origin, of a baller’s paradise |
| It’s going down, I can smell it in the air tonight |
| So when you see us pulling up, dressed looking like a million |
| Balling permanent, keep our figgas changed like chameleon |
| Niggas be hating for no reason, ain’t no secret how I’m living |
| Escalade switch screens, is how you see your boy dipping |
| Blowing weed on the freeway, not giving a fuck |
| Getting my dick sucked doing eighty, bout to hit me a cut |
| 20 inches of chrome, keep they mouth wide open |
| Toking cash and hoping, they can shine like me |
| Get out and put it down, and then grind like me |
| Leaving them haters and bitch niggas, behind me |
| I hit the block, representing paper |
| 4−4 safety off for them violators, and fake playas |
| Gott Damn be like go, too hot to hold |
| The weight up on my ice, keep me looking real swoll |
| So don’t be mad when I show up, smoke something and po' up |
| I told you motherfuckers, what’s gon happen when I blow up |
| Now hold up, I got one more thang to mention |
| I’m riding out Presidential, swinging lanes on a mission |
| I got my first piece of ass, at 13 |
| And I prolly done ran up in every chick, that you done seen me with |
| I’m associated with playas, with green and shit |
| Bad bitches in Jeeps and Lexus trucks, and shit |
| I’m that nigga see come and get, on blunts weights and shit |
| Serving head in the parking lot, giving me fits |
| Now if you knew I meant your Ms., would you make me kill you person |
| Or would you deal with this broad, that got you into this shit |
| Would you peep the situation, or go crazy and start tripping |
| Like pulling off your shirt, and tossing your jewelry in the dirt |
| I’ma hit you where it hurt, and wreck shop like bad cops |
| On niggas in the ghetto, for working they block |
| So stop watching me, with all that animosity |
| Cause your baby mama’s spending, your earned dollas on me |
| Sad shit for two partna, it’s all on you |
| Don’t be mad at the playa, hate the rules |
| (Chad Jones) |
| See me rolling in a Presidential side man |