Statik Selektah, Allan Kingdom, Killer Mike, Conway the Machine and 2 Chainz - Play Around

Yeah
(Statik Selektah)
You know what's up, nigga
We really don't play around

Look
The yay on the stove, my nigga
Need new batteries for my scale, we be weighin' them O's, my nigga
Shooters sniffin' filthy just to stay on his toes, my nigga
Fifty round sticks, niggas sprayin' with those, my nigga (brrr)
I got hit in my throat, face twisted up but I'm still sick with the flow (haha)
You niggas sick as me? No
You niggas sick of me, I know
But you bitch niggas know
You get your shit split, if you approach
Nigga I'm G.O.A.T., Grimiest Of All Time
When I spitted this dope
Paid a grip for the coat (ooh)
The slippers a fo'
Ride with the stick in the Ghost
But even when I was broke, the Smith & was close
Niggas was gettin' smoked
Hit the back of your head, I'ma lift it with the toast (uh-huh)
I got hit in the back of my head but nigga I'm still afloat (ha)
The Machine nigga, the light green, nigga
I send my youngin' through there to do a stain, nigga (brrr, grrah)

We really don't play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if anybody stay around
We really don't play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if everybody stay around

Yeah
Nobody move, nobody get hurt (hurt)
Tony take a Adderall, he wan' take a Perc (Tony)
Christian Dior shirt pressed (uh)
King of the jungle, might lace my shorty with a fur dress (damn)
Now four niggas tried to sing on me, quartet (woo)
PPP came in and got a Corvette (vroom)
Mama text me and said I need more rest
But I heard they think I'ma lose, I need more bets (I need more)
This the synchronized swimmin' addition
Two bowls full of babies in the fetal position
Crack talk, trap talk if you bein' specific
And I'm all about my bread, I need that in a jiffy

We really don't play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if anybody stay around
We really don't play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if everybody stay around

This crack rap, trap rap
This that eenie meenie miney mo, Goddamn, .44 at your grandmammy door
If you ain't got my sack wrapped (sack wrapped)
Knock-knock, hello, blah-blah
That'll show you the use for the tool
Top ten nigga alive but a nigga play it cool
Now your grandmother's on the evening news (news)
Man, I'm the meanest, cleanest, pugilist genius grabbin' my penis
Crucified, niggas thought I died, I'm back, I'm Jesus (I'm Jesus)
Got crack in the back, got gas in the pack, got pills for the attic (attic)
I'm a Rolex rocker, never wanted the AP or lusted the Pateks (Pateks)
Street politics, sold white dope right in front of your house (your house)
I be the reason your aunties' kids and your uncle sold your couch (your couch)
Dope boy, dope boy
I ask, "Do we got a problem?" like dope boy (dope boy)
You ain't really nothin' but a ho, boy
You ain't really, you ain't really want that smoke, boy
Look at my team and look at your team, man we really mean that shit
We came in with the stick
We can get to aimin' and flamin' shit (shit)
Look at your woman, gettin' all anxious, talkin' piece of shit
Still on my dope boy script, look at her, tell her, "Shut up, bitch"

Play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if anybody stay around
We really don't play around
Call me Bob the Builder, got the tools to lay down
Don't nobody move and don't nobody make a sound
Everybody lose if everybody stay around

Written by:
Patrick Baril, Tauheed Epps, Allan Kyariga, Demond Price, Michael Render

Publisher:
Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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