M.M.O. - Stop playing games
Tekst :
feat. Ice Grillz
[Intro: Itchy-Fingas]
Hey grandma, yea, how you feelin ?
Yeah, everything s okay, and yourself?
Oh, grandma, I was just callin to ask you
If you had a Hooptie that I can borrow, yeah a Hooptie
Yeah, my cars in the shop right now, I have to go see my girl
Yeah, I can hold it? Thank you, grandma, I appreciate it so much
You know I love you, so much, okay, I got to go though
Oh, wait, grandma, you got a gun that I can borrow?
[Intro: Itchy-Fingas]
Yo, M.M.O., baby, Protect Ya Neck, baby
The patrol zone, Itchy-Fingas Sha, stop playin games
Wit the pop, pop, pop, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
[Itchy-Fingas]
Yo, I stop the press, niggas get hands pump in they chest
C.P.R. flow, I got ya ll niggas coughin up dough
Double M to the O, blow like a fifty of dro
And splash tracks like never before, we untouched pa
Porsche or a Jaguar, scanner with the radar, start your shit
Blowin niggas right where they sit
I spit the flows, but the flows be sick, B.I. ridiculous
We addicted to blow, ya ll, cause ya ll niggas predicted it
Cheddar s my witness, flossin like bricks, like brick-face
Benjamin big-face, around the world like Puff and Mase
Whatever it take, we push weight for high stakes
Tristate, down state, nigga just don t play
I spit the murder, but the radio, just won t play
No Flex bomb threats, it s strictly conflicts up in the conference
[Chorus 4X: Itchy-Fingas]
Stop playin games with that dough, pa
We get that dough, pa, we take that dough, pa, M.M.O.
[Ice Grillz]
We rolled up in two bubble-eye 6 s, rag to riches
Don t get it twisted, nigga, pop a bottle, snappin pictures
Cake like Duncan Hines, we sport, platinum shines
Links, laced in full length minks
Don t be protected, in armor cars like brinks
Valet, park the car, I m at the bar sippin drinks, like
Shootin stars, pass Mars, whatever
Me and my dunns pack guns roll tougher than leather
Like a wrist, raw spit, with Glaciers of Ice
My whole team s blingin like a diamond, just a heist
Eyes to the skies, me and my duns bust slugs in it
Like a foreigner G.S., wit the windows tinted
All my Sunz of Man got plans to receive
Hundreds of grands for they body pay beneath the sand
For real, for real, cats is killed on the hill, but still
Try to stack, teach the seeds and build
We originate, from the Asiatic populate
Nubian state, the Gods hold it down to weight
Six sets, trillion tons, multiplied by
Nineteen million guns, you hear me son?
[Chorus 4X]
[Triggnomm]
I clap in the booth, hydro, Henny and heat
Spit sixteen in the street, dead at the police
Criminals on patrol, killas off parole
The truth unfolds, my flows become horrible
Duckin forty one slugs, at police clubs and buttocks
Raw, rough and rugged, like the media love it
Hot flows, accumulatin to a drop rose
As far as I m supposed, that s how hip hop goes
So we drink, smoke and skeet, til we coke or go broke
Noddin off in our sleep, like we be dippin the dope
Robo thugs, wit M.J. millennium gloves
See my vision, can t you tell, we on submission
We gon get that dough, and we gon split that dough
And if necessary wit calico s, close the show
I m certain, it be curtains once your wounds start hurtin
Your dog start desertin , relatives in a hearsin
What s worse, then playin with a black man s dough
That s like fuckin his queen hoe, or wreckin his vehicle
Ya ll muthafuckas see the glow in M.M.O.
C.I. cats, now multiply dough times that, stop playin
[Chorus 6X]
[Outro: Itchy-Fingas]
Yo, M.M.O. Official, Protect Ya Neck Records
The drome zone, Itchy-Fingas Sha, Big Trigg, Iron Sheik
You heard me, it s not a game, yo stop playin games wit that dough pa
We get that dough, pa, we take that dough, pa, M.M.O.
Let me at it, lemme double that..