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lirik lagu play play – rxknephew

[intro: rx papi & rxk nephew]
yeah
dawg sh*t records
yeah, yuh
yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah (yuh)
stupid b*tch, yeah
you dumb b*tch

[verse 1: rx papi]
i ain’t got time for no broke ho
b*tch, get the f*ck on
block every number that b*tch got
how the h*ll you still call my phone?
blocked her on my instagram
but you still watch my story
b*tch, i got my .30 on me every day
i feel like robert horry
baby, i’m that n*gga and i got dog
when you need it, i’m who you call
i got good clean soft
make a opp baby mama l!ck my b*lls
what the f*ck you need, lil n*gga, a bundle or something?
i was broke, but i bet i’ll get some money or something
micro drake hold a hundred or something
you can catch every last onе of ’em for fronting
stick going off in every dirеction
fn five*seven leave a n*gga in sections
i’m a real deal stepper when it come to my section
broad day, pop out with the gl!ck, hit whoever
they like “chill, lil cuz, you wilding”
let me do what i do when i do, don’t worry about it
real dope boy, serve a b*tch a brick out a audi
place your order, i’ll be there whenever you call me
i’ll make my baby mama ride with dog
b*tch gon’ hold it down ’cause that’s my dog
that b*tch one crazy motherf*cker
they say pap a shady motherf*cker
she gon’ do what i tell her to get that sh*t done
i tell her i love her ‘fore she go on the run
i done been in a lot of sh*t, but i’m not one of them
i’ll catch my opps, b done shot one of ’em
every time i see my opps, they don’t ever do sh*t
they be oh so tough ’til they see that stick
i just robbed one of my opps’ lil cousin
i caught his dumb ass in [?] lunching
he in there with some white ugly b*tch shopping
backed out the rocket, told bro hit his pockets
i told ock “chill, don’t worry, i got this”
i know they looking and thinking we on some hot sh*t
jumped back in the charger and sped off
i shoulda shot his f*cking leg off
i run this city, i’m the f*cking boss
dawg sh*t records, top dog
[verse 2: rxk nephew]
last opp seen us sh*t hisself
glock made him p*ss hisself
they not comfortable being theyself
took buddha money and percs by myself
did a show at california brew house
d*mn near knocked dj 20 grand tooth out
they screaming “free rich,” he a rat
litty got scared and ran from pap
shameik was never tough, it’s all cap
chase gold ran down, beat blood out his head
phil look up to his big brother
he scared of me and so is his big brother
they think ’cause i rap i won’t pull up
seen rich wifey, she seen my gun
washed up bald head b*tch out the strip club
litty live with his mama off [?]
caught him coming out his house, “what you doing?”
he reached for his gun, made him spin on his head
it wasn’t even a gun, it was a phone
witnesses watching, begging me to let go

[verse 3: rx papi]
i got auntie outside, cuz, make me a bowl
don’t aim for one opp, we hitting ’em all
rob a n*gga for his sh*t, then i’m hitting the mall
came up on ten and got split with my dog
draco sound like a round of applause
split 27*630, b*tch, i’m rounding it off
it’s thirty in the glock, b*tch, i’m bound to get off
ain’t no more room on my d*ck, b*tch, get off
i could really break the bag down
never will you see me back down
i’m robbing sh*t if i’m back down
this that grimy old pap sound
i’m booted as sh*t and i’m clenching my jaw
first n*gga move wrong get hit with the rod
these n*ggas just rappers, they ain’t k!llers at all
sell drugs in his songs, he ain’t a dealer at all
perc on my tongue, i’ma let it dissolve
392, hit the gas and spin off
when i’m in your city, i got raw
you can get some work and a feature and all
don’t trust me with sh*t, i’m bound to run off
if i think a n*gga sweet, i’m taking him off
troopers get behind me, b*tch, it’s on
’cause a long ass chase what i’m taking ’em on
auntie knocking on the door, she wanna wake up the morning
it’s 5:37, b*tch, you on it
dawg sh*t records the new ruthless
cuz can’t hustle but he’ll shoot sh*t
i’ll pay him but for free, he like to do sh*t
point a n*gga out and watch cuz boom him
i walk in this b*tch like the godfather
rob a b*tch dad, grandad and godfather
don’t play with me, b*tch, that’s the quickest way to get shot
whole bunch of cocaine mixed in a big pot
two tone cartier rolls royce wristw*tch
she suck ’til i nut, kept sucking, i’m like “b*tch, stop”
don’t come with that rah*rah, b*tch, you making sh*t hot
told the blam it’s gelato, i gave him the ziploc
i’ll say what i want on the beat like i’m pac
don’t compare me to that n*gga ’cause that’s what i’m not
i can go on and on about my opps
one of ’em caught a body in a year and he got out
these n*ggas ain’t crazy, they act like they shot out
deep down in they heart, they just want ’em a shout out
litty k run, i’ll be outside his mom house
teddy tried to dump sh*t and got his ass knocked out
every time sha see me, i’m pulling the glock out
i’ll up it and blow it, they know how i rock out
seen his cuz in the store, shoulda blew that boy scalp out
my gun on my waist any time i hop out
my gun in your face like “pop all that sh*t now”
he a stand up n*gga, bet the glock make him sit down
.556, this stick hold big rounds
boom*boom*boom, b*tch, get down
b*tch ass n*gga got me in my bag
phil run when he see me, i’ll get on his ass
how the f*ck is you big for no reason?
caught a body on accident, you k!lled a fiend
glock dance on your face like billie jean
i hate my opps with a f*cking passion
these b*tch ass n*ggas got a groupchat
n*gga, my b*tches don’t even got groupchats
they talk about pap in they groupchat
i got more money than all them and that’s true facts
on crip, q rich a true rat
i will beat your face ’til it’s blue*black
i b*tched you once, you went and told neph
b*tch, i’m on go when sh*t go left
you left my brother hanging on mad l!cks
big for nothing ass n*gga, you mad b*tch
all them n*ggas run behind you some f*cking flunkies
can’t none of you n*ggas show me some money
i’ll go live any day and show you a hundred
i try to show you the drake, you gon’ go to running
if i’m in the club, you should know my gun in
glock hit a n*gga, it look like he krumping
and ain’t one of you n*ggas ever did nothing
bam b*tched you n*ggas every day
you’re not even allowed on fourth street
y’all scream “4 block” but don’t be on fourth street
i’m dropping 4’s on fourth street
i’ll put a razor where a b*tch throat be
one eye with the glock like doe b
i’m masked up, but they still know it’s me
sha tried that dumb sh*t in the store
shoulda left his f*cking brains on the floor
i’ll really hand to hand exchange for the raw
really trap with cocaine in my b*lls
h*ll nah, i ain’t never watch football
i was never a fan of michael vick at all
but you can say we the same and send me the wav’s
’cause i’ll fight a b*tch to death ’bout that dog
[verse 4: rxk nephew]
one of the opps said we illuminati
he creatine’d out with a stupid body
little ass glock, mad c*cky
smoove was never tough, n*gga, stop it
baby k got blood beat out his head
these n*ggas went to school for criminal justice
i was punching sh*t out, broke and dusty
these n*ggas had yo’s three times
these n*ggas get scared, run they time
b*tch in the store screamed ’til her face white
smoove got a old beamer, can’t drive right
these n*ggas, they look up to bam
walk in that b*tch like “free bam”
n*ggas don’t hit l!cks, they got jobs
fell back from the street ’cause he got robbed
make him shoot his own son like cheddar bob
they like “that’s your hood, why you throw it down?”
i built that sh*t, i’ll tear it down
bend 4 block with a big thirty round
shoot a b*tch grandad house down
yeah

- rxknephew

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