a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

big pokey - don't play lyrics

(-talking-)
i don’t play, make way
ak, sensei

[big pokey]
pimping ain’t a thang, so i sw-ng on these youngsters
i bang on these heffers, and make these hoes swim
the b-tch can’t swim, she’s bound to drown
a crock might lock on, and spin her round and round
thirteen can’t find me, i drowned the hounds
put the weed in the commode, and drown the pounds
fo’ hundred rounds, two two-hundred clips
whoever my target is, gon do two hundred flips
my 15’s bang, like two hundred crips
on your block, sounding like two hundred whips
my pockets swoll, like they done two hundred dips
and i don’t use money clips, just plastic bags
these n-ggas jumping fly, but they crashing fast
don’t make me tell my set snipers, to blast the mags
i’m a toe tagger, move ‘fore that -ss get dagged
pistol whipped, stomped and whipped i don’t play

[hook – 2x]
i don’t play, one deep i’ll rock your block
make way, it’s the cat that they got to stop
ak, that’s for cats that don’t like to box
sensei, i’m a crock bull i got’s to lock

[big pokey]
hard times and pain, got a n-gga mind locked
i’m frustrated, about to pull that iron out
i’m trying not, to lose my cool
but i’ma grind it out, i refuse to lose
and i’m a hog dog, and do what i do
you better watch out, ‘fore i do it to you
cause when i come through, your do’ on the lake
it’s feather weight, letting off eight in your chest plate
might choke your scwol, till the tramp suffocate
then c4 the place, cause that’ll close the case
i rock glocks, i don’t f-ck with beepers
i pull boulders out my sneakers, and feed deakers
i rap now n-gga, i bleed speakers
majors trying to peep us, fed’s trying to keep us
treat us how you meet us, real know real
take it how it come, n-gga move up the field

[hook – 2x]

[big pokey]
m.o.b. me, i’m the boss of the cl!ck
i’m in the kitchen tossing a brick, my ounces are thick
all i need is pyrex gaws, to fork all with
i’m throwing hard to the block, like bret favre or vick
i got a mean gauge game, my revolver sick
it keep throwing up bullets, my revolver sick
don’t involve your cl!ck, them n-ggas’ll get it
i run with a mobbish cl!ck, them n-ggas is with it
n-ggas get hit, when i c-ck my fo’ back
franko chain and a fitted, when i rock my throwback
i keep it gutter, ounces of yay like toast
i keep it b-tter, big ol’ slab when i cut her
i come from the street n-gga, in a hard way
is how i eat n-ggas, so you know i might cheat n-ggas
light on my feet n-gga, hands like pipes
break n-ggas off, and it’s on on sight n-gga

[hook – 4x]

(-talking-)
make way n-gga, straight up
i’m coming at ya, i ain’t stopping
you know me, m.o.b
i don’t play make way, ak senei

- big pokey lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS