DJ Battlecat - Play My Cards lyrics

(To) (to) (to) (To the tic) (To the tic-tic) --] Slick Rick Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah Kurupt Young Gotti Hell yeah Raw Dawg You know You know me Raw Dawg Assa**in Comin atcha, baby Cat, kick it in Kick it in [ VERSE 1 ] Pull up... Soon as I park sh** sparks Spit fire, g**n affiliation, retalitation Spit sparks till sh**'s dark forever What's up, homie Why you walkin up on me? Postin up in the shade We can draw or get paid You ain't movin not a thing, homeboy Click em with automatics and automatic toys Bounce, rock, rollerskatin Dippin down the streets on platinum Daytons (Yo, what up?) I'm just a gee Oh yeah, that's me Don't forget it Act like you knew it 'fore I set it I put the needle on top of the wax Before I turn around And burn everything to the ground I seen it comin A fool over to the right gunnin The homies whistled We all draw pistols [ Hook ] Gotta stay in charge Gotta play my cards On the grind all day, babe Oh, gots to get paid [ VERSE 2 ] You got a stash to hid, you got some hash to hit? Cash to get, Glocks to pop and sh** (What you talkin bout?) Everybody's got questions and sh** (Hey yo, what's up with...?) Muthaf**as questionin sh** (Shut the f** up, homie) Worryin bout me and my wife (My wife) All I wanna do is live my life (That's all) Raise up off me, homie (Yeah) Ease back softly, homie (Check it out) I'm a gee from the D.P.G And no matter what you say, you can't f** with me Hey loco, I see you wanna loc out Coastin, movin in locomotion In the cut dippin, the homeboys trippin Spittin, waitin for a shot to get called The homie spit a plot to us Then pa**ed the 16-shots to us Uh-u-uh Uh-u-uh Uh-u-uh [ VERSE 3 ] I got scams for hundreds of gramms Me and my man, me and my pistol, a plan For about a Whole ki load of some powder Stashin, dippin, dashin, smashin, tryin to cash in ]From the front to the back, and packin Pull the strap and start clappin I'm about to move a little somethin A little sumptin-sumpin For the homie, pack the pump and get to dumpin Hit the liquor store, I wanna get paid A fifth of Hen, then back to the shade What you got, smoke, loc, let's blaze up Let me get a toke, loc, and let's raise up Punks stop and get popped when funk pop I'm worldwide while you thinkin: either he is or he's not International like [???] You can feel me In the real way [ Hook ] b**hes, get your ride on, on Kurupt Young Gotti Raw Dawg Just get your ride on Just get your ride on, homie My n***a Battlecat Ha-ha Just get your ride on, homie (To the tic-tic And you don't quit Hit it) This is for the riders Riders The riders Hustlers Hustlers The hustlers This is the one, baby! (Tic-toc) (Ya) (ya) (ya don't) (Ya) (ya) (ya) (ya don't stop) (stop) (stop) b**h