Foul Monday - Why Y'all Wanna Play lyrics

(Verse I) Yo, we the k**er kids And everything we spit be the most extradinary Tremendous, rap come in flurries Outbreaks of violence enhance the bars We all generals and claim status, we five stars Been goin' hard since the growth in the womb Album comin' soon we gon' show n***as the tombs That we call apartments, use you consciencness Q.B. the graveyard we the harvesters, to this ( ? ) and raw lyrics Create a mosh pit and thug n***as and ban all beginners Crud be the cry for my n***as in arms Military style, is little dolls runnin' wild World full or war lords and barbarians We at the top of the list so who you better than? High-voletules street full of ( ? ) Back down b**hes with brain, the crud logical (Chorus) Aiyo, why y'all wanna play with my team Why y'all think everything just a motherf**in' game For the haters I advise you to zip your lip Or you might get hit with some sh** thats spit is kildren Why y'all want to play with my team Why y'all think everything is just a motherf**in' game It's Q.B. crud love; who want what Act up for real spit slap mouth out ya grill (Verse II) Aiyo why you watchin' me close for You don't know that I'll blow four Leave you in a casket with a closed door Jealousy; why, cause you ain't likin' a kid? Soon my wrist be lit, like the lights on a bridge You in trainin' now, what'chu fightin' your b**h You can act real good who writin the script It ain't no problem when gettin' low And the only milk that I ever spilled is when I missed the 'bow So don't re-talk it n***a like it's war when you see me Crudded out, all tall when you see me You doin' your bird, tryna skip the line I hope she don't wait a whole year Cause she tellin' me the kid is mine Aiyo my life ain't sh** of course And I'm depressed, with gray hair face down to my chest Let's get it poppin' you plottin n***a it won't work It'll only get you stomped out till it don't hurt (Chorus) (Verse III) Yo, the '86 throw back Muna better than ever To equalize under the level, who want it? sh** bow n***as get flushed down the toilet For them slick talkin' n***as that order it Parties - we spoil it Have promoters closin' the clubs Blowin' on dubs quick to disperse let out a slugs Muena from the heaven above Crud love, add on, and get your math right Rhyme flow tight some laminate thugs Lose eyesight triple-O sanikes Have you weaken at the beekend Heat seakin' scope you out Kildren the nicest; street word of mouth Curbing you out on the four front Of the orange lure import new ports and we scowin' 'em out (Chorus)