Suckas Do What They Can (Real Playaz) lyrics

[Intro: Roger Troutman]
Spice 1
Too Short, yup
Said I'm a real playa, yeah
Real playa
Playa
Playa
Playa

[Verse 1: Too Short]
Whoever try to buy a new Benz, spend money on your friends
Order up some sh*t with a pocket full of ends
Ain't no sympathy for suckers, b*tch, I'm a hustler
For the last 12 years I could never get enough of
That cash, I keep it in my jeans, b*tch
Have you ever seen it? A big pile of green sh*t?
When I spend it, b*tch, I'm the man
I do what I want, suckers do what they can
That's why I moved to the A, straight from the Bay
I'm still mackin' b*tches everyday, anyway
And if you don't like it, I don't give a f*ck
I'mma still let my top down and turn this sh*t up
Nothin' half on my business, keep gettin' paid
If n*ggas stick together, maybe we'll live to see the day
When everybody keep ballin' like me and my folks
Let these gold-diggin' b*tches count my spokes
Short Dog in the house
[Hook: Roger Troutman]
Real playaz do what they want to
Suckas do what they can
Real playaz do what they want to
No time for strugglin'
Real playaz do what they want to
Suckas do what they can
Real playaz do what they want to
Real thugs gon' hustlin'

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]
Hop in the Ranger Rover, mob, thrustin' this out my car
sh*t better be hard, ghetto celebrity star
Smoke 'dro out of jelly jars
Boss to be fraud, catch me at the telly with broads
Havin' ménage à trois, X-ed out on the Celly with Todd
"Short Dog, what's up?" He told me Roger Troutman passed
I hollered, my sh*t about to crash
Copped a block of hash, an ounce of grass
Damn! Poppin' Crystal, poured me a glass
Then poured the whole rest of the bottle out on the flow for yo' ass
This's for my n*gga Roger, the godfather of futuristic funk
Here's the ganja, get it crunk
Twist the skunk, hit it once
And keep that sh*t movin' and
Thug n*ggas do what they want to, and busta n*ggas do what you're doin'
I went from rags to riches, bagged b*tches, Jags and 6's
To droppin' a solo album that's sellin' more than the last sh*t did
I got the streets and ave's addicted
Cash it: Swiss accounts, drunk as f*ck in the stretch narrow strippers
[Hook]

[Verse 3: Spice 1]
I've come from More Bounce To The Ounce to Short Dog and Roger Troutman
Yukmouth, we thugged out for the money and all the power
Real n*ggas do what they want to, suckers do what the f*ck they can
Self-ma-made-mu-muthaf*ckin-man
Poppin' my collar, li-livin'; the hustler's dream
Ballers fiend for cream, pockets bust out the seams
Franklin and Grant is my dogs, I die for em
(Die for em) C-cry, lie, ride for em (ride for em)
n*gga, I know You Heard It Through the Grapevine
I was out here doin' it way too live
Doin' way too much, I'm tryin' to touch 40 million bucks
And flip a jet with some beaters, about 14
Flop through your hood, bumpin' this sh*t, smokin' sticky green
Thugs be hustlin', muggin' and puttin' muscle in
No time for strugglin, keep your mind on bubblin'
You can't see me through websites, but I still got Computer Love
For my n*gga Roger Troutman, cause he was ridin' with real thugs
n*gga

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Roger Troutman]
Real playaz
Real playaz
Real Playaz
Real playaz
Real playaz
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Ooh yeah
Spice 1's a real playa, baby
Yeeeaaah
You gotta keep on
Don't you know
Don't you know you better watch yourself
You better watch yourself
You better watch yourself
You know you got to be...
Yeah
Don't you be trippin' in em streets, n*gga
Don't you be trippin' in em streets, n*gga
Spice 1 gon' tell you how it's really goin' down
Yeah
Real playa
Playa
Playa
Playa...