Lyrics: Play Your Part (pt.1)

Sweet jones
By bitch a choosey lover, never fuck without a rubber
Never in the sheets, like it on top of the cover
Money on the dresser, drive a compressor
Top notch hoes get the most, not the lesser
trash like the fuck for 40 dollars in the club
fucking up the game, bitch you gets no love
She be cross country givin all that she got
A thousand a pop, Im pullin Bentleys off the lot
I smashed up the grey one, bought me a red
Every time we hit the parking lot we turn heads
Some hoes wanna choose but them bitches too scary
Your bitch chose me, you aint a pimp you a fairy

Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl

Pump that, pump that
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that, pump that
Pump that shit, girl
Pump that shit, girl

Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out
Now Walk It Out

West Side Walk It Out
South Side Walk It Out
East Side Walk It Out
North Side Walk It Out

Now Hit The Dance Floor
Now Bend Your Back Low
She Do It Wit No Hands
Now Stop Pop And Roll
I'm Smoking Bubba Hoe
Now they in trouble hoe
I Like The Way She Move
An Undercover Hoe

It's On Once Again
Patron One Again
I Threw My Head Back
Then I Froze Like The Wind
West Side Walk It Out
South Side Walk It Out
East Side Walk It Out
North Side Walk It Out

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey....

We're not gonna take it
Show me how, uh-uh, no way, show me how
No! We ain't gonna take it
Show me how, uh-uh, no way, show me how
We're not gonna take it anymore
Show me how
Show me how, uh-uh, no way, show me how

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

We poppin champaign like we won a championship game,
Look like I got on a championship ring,
'Cause I ball hard,
No bitch we ball harder,
I am the Birdman,
And I'm the J-R-uh

Bitch, I'm paid, is all I gotta say
What you know about that, what you know about that
Bitch, I'm paid, is all I gotta say
What you know about that, I know all about that

Bitch, I'm paid, is all I gotta say
Can't see you Lil Nigga, The Money In The Way
And I'm, I'm Sitting High, A Gansta Ride Blades
If You Ain't Gone Ride Fly Than You Might As Well Hate
Shit I Gotta Eat... Yeah, Even Though I Ate
It Ain't My Birthday But I Got My Name On the Cake
(Shit) Believe That, If Ya Mans Wanna Play
I'mma Fuck Around And Put That Boy Brains On The Table
Pick 'em up, fuck 'em Let 'Em Lay
Where I'm From We See A Fucking Dead Body Everyday
Thats, Uptown, throw a stack at 'Em
make a song about me, I'm Throwing Shots Back At 'Em
Ya bitch on my pipe, And She Like A crack addict
And She Saw Me Cooking Eggs And She Though I Was Back At It
I Grab The Keys, Hoe I Gotta Go
I Got My Motorcycle Jacket And My motorcycle loafs

'Cause nothing compares
What you know about that
Nothing compares to you
What you know about that

I was gettin' some head
Gettin', gettin' some head
I was gettin' some head
Gettin', gettin' some head

Nothing compares
What you know about that
Nothing compares to you
I know all about that

I was gettin' some head
Gettin', gettin' some head
I was wit the kinda girl dat make yo toes curl

I was ge-ge-ge-ge-gettin'
One, whoo!, one
Ge-ge-ge-ge-gettin'
Oh yeah!
Ge-ge-ge-ge-gettin'
One, whoo!, one
Ge-ge-ge-ge-gettin'
Oh yeah!