- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
Paul Wall( Paul Michael Slayton )
-
Play Dirty
Lyricist:Hakeem Seriki, Paul Slayton
Play dirty, like I slipped in mud before the game And the coach wouldn't even let a playa go change Play dirty, I talk more trash than Ali I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee
Play dirty, break ya nose like Rodman did Pippen The minute you start trippin', I'll slip the banana clip in Play dirty, everything in life ain't fair So sometimes you gotta play dirty, do you feel me on that there?
Man fuck a rule book cuddy I play dirty I cook 2 on stovers when I cook birdies I got tattoos white boxers T-shirts and slugs If in the mirror then I'm fixin' my mug
I put a nigga on the top floor I beat him with a jack show him that I'm not a hoe Fill an application out at papadeaux's Work my way up to manager and rob the hoes
You never know what I'm gonna do next like a lava lamp Pull out the pockets on the damn dada pants Ridin' in a throwed lil' car hotter than some fiya ants I be actin' like Bin Laden, I think I got a problem man
I ain't the baddest in the world but I'm the baddest you done seen I want you out that car now pull over like trina Ya patna owe me cash, I'm gon' get that bank Put a bomb under the car and a twist in the gas tank what
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Play dirty, like I slipped in mud before the game And the coach wouldn't even let a playa go change Play dirty, I talk more trash than Ali I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee
Play dirty, break ya nose like Rodman did Pippen The minute you start trippin', I'll slip the banana clip in Play dirty, everything in life ain't fair So sometimes you gotta play dirty, do you feel me on that there?
Catch me at the club with a clutch at my waist If a hata run up I leave a scuff on his face Blood on his face get drug thru a lake For goodness sake invite the hood to his wake
Banana in ya tail pipe sugar in ya tank Dis combobulate ya fuel pump when ya car crank Swallow up ya fear break a bottle on a chair Grab a model by the hair when you holla in the air
Girl, give me your number or I'll steal ya car Lew hawk at the bar robbing mone from the tip jar Throw ya neighborhood up if you ain't barrin' And if a busta hold the place don't sit there and ignore it
Break a hata nose dismantle his jaw Them Hollywood Boys gon' handle the bar If he tries to make a move then take him to the lot Trunk pop stash pot with the automatic glock
-
|