Mr. Pip Don’t Play lyrics

by

Vic Spencer


[Intro]
Just to understand you
You can understand that bullsh*t but you can’t understand how to take another
Aaahh
Oh oh I know they don’t like it
(Hear that)
n*ggas is b*tches
(Hear that)
Straight the f*ck up them n*ggas through man
I’m on the real
They don’t know what’s real f*ck ‘em
What the f*ck n*gga c’mon

[Verse]
Oven hot sh*t, compare me to that
Look in n*ggas eyes and see the scariest cats
Hairs turn straight on their arms
Swing a barrel at your face I got the donkiest charm
n*ggas don’t have to bump my sh*t
I know the good news
I know all of the lit, I know all the hood rules
Never broke one of them
That’s why a n*gga could walk by my mother f*cking sеlf
People stop me to talk
And ask quеstions like
“What’s a better dig, wet dirt or dry?”
I’ll ponder on that later while smoking the fire
Something to chime in
They know I’m married so no dine in
Currently with Doc making your mind bend
Lining from my uncle, smoothie from my auntie
Rhyme soul by the bundle, this city is a jungle
Vic Spencer ‘bout to disown that
Soon as you step on the scene you a clone bat
Smoking weed, Pat Sajak, fortune cookie OG
Cliché n*gga, weed socks while I blow trees
Listen to blow trees by Redman while rolling up
Wearing all white so I can scoop all of the tree nugs
Fabric softener music
Hardcore n*ggas doing their laundry to it
Play this sh*t loud while you watch a movie
Your girl’s gush looking like a melted Laffy Taffy
n*ggas still talking sh*t with no heart, get at me
Look at these n*ggas, one time for life
And shoot your soul through your body make it swoop through the night
Never seen a ghost outside of my shadow
Talking with your moth we gon’ slap off the Bible
Back to the broccoli rap with the beef sheet
Ike Turner a mother f*cking beat for relief, sh*t
sh*t
f*ck
Damn
That’s it though
That’s all you’re gonna give us
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