"Playboy 2" lyrics
"Playboy 2"
Uh, two fingers up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup
Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup
I'm all iced up, yup, pocket knife'd up, yup
I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a fuck, nah
The Unit's in this bitch, yea , you know who I'm with, yea
Rolling out the piff, yea, six after six, yea
Hanging out the whips rocks bangin off my wrist, yea
I'm a ball till I die, why, 'cause I'm a playb-o-y
Guess who's the man this quarter, the rich playin' the boarder
Your papers much shorter, my safe is this big
Not from New York to Georgia, they recognize the slaughter
Diamonds around the boarder, a platinum ice pick
We in them Lambs the color of Candy Yams
The only niggas in the city with Miami tints
I picked up my advance and took off out to France
Thousand dollar pants and hundred thousand dollar hands
Mami I don't dance, I rock, I bop
I half a ounce of sticky in my sock, I'm hot
If I like it I'm a cop it on the spot, why not
These haters still won't give me my props, I'm shocked
I do it for the concrete, the curb, the block
All I got is the street, my word, my Glock
These little niggas emulatin' me, no lie
Know why, know why, 'cause I'm a playb-o-y
Uh, two fingers up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup
Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup
I'm all iced up, yup, pocket knife'd up, yup
I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a fuck, nah
The Unit's in this bitch, yea , you know who I'm with, yea
Rolling out the piff, yea, six after six, yea
Hanging out the whips rocks bangin off my wrist, yea
I'm a ball till I die, why, 'cause I'm a playb-o-y
Hey, pull up in a Benz, hoodie and my Timbs
Hologram rims, a lot of Benjamin's
I shop 'til I drop, I stunt when I want
Rollin' blunt after blunt, blowin' bump out the trunk
Now I'm shittin' on all of y'all, dump after dump
I'm high and I'm drunk, havin' lunch at the trunk
Don't front, I get CÎROC'n, and my click is poppin'
Now my hits is droppin' that's why the chickens flockin'
I ain't a come up, I got the Louis black
Hydraulics on the 'Lac, I pop and whoolie that
Now we got enough toys to knock the city back
Beef and broccoli fitted cap, he's the rockiest in rap
They copyin' my moves I cruise on twenty-two's
Big pools, money and jewels, that's all a nigga do's
The illest never run out of time, just by the two's
And ooohhh, you should see what my song make them do
Uh, two fingers up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup
Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup
I'm all iced up, yup, pocket knife'd up, yup
I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a fuck, nah
The Unit's in this bitch, yea , you know who I'm with, yea
Rolling out the piff, yea, six after six, yea
Hanging out the whips rocks bangin' off my wrist, yea
I'ma ball 'til I die, why, 'cause I'm a playb-o-y
If you come from the bottom, put your hands up
Yo' hood fucked up and rotten, put your hands up
You and your clique get it poppin', put your hands up
A nigga front, I'm leavin' out of here in handcuffs
Now PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
Yeah.. Man I don't give a fuck what you said
Now PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah
PUT 'EM UP.. Yeah.. Yeah.. Yeah..!!
OOOHHHHHHH...!!!
Thanks to Isaac for adding these lyrics.
Thanks to briankluck, edzg_492 for correcting these lyrics.
Writer(s): Christopher Charles Lloyd, Brian Frederick Hines
- AZLyrics
- L
- Lloyd Banks Lyrics
album:
"Rotten Apple" (2006)
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