Lyrics Bun–B – Stop Playin’
Text:
{«I-I-I-I-Incredible»}
cut-n-scratched repeatedly
«Stop, playin»
Bun B
I keep MC’s breakin out (out)
I’m bringin real rap back and takin the fakin out
I’m clearin all the bullshit out the way to make a vacant route (route)
Okay, now let the real niggaz roll through (through)
That’s goin for you new niggaz and the old too (too)
It was some bullshit then, and it’s some bullshit now
So I’m just tryin to keep the bullshit down
They say the rap game (game) needs balance to keep it level (level)
Just like the EQ with the bass, mid and treble (treble)
And yeah that’s true, but if you wanna point blame (blame)
Just be careful about the motherfuckin way you aim (aim)
You blame radio, internet and politics (‘tics)
But see we all really know that’s just a pile of shit (shit)
You’re not playin cause your music ain’t hittin (hittin)
The people don’t like you, stop hatin, start quittin motherfucker
Chorus: Bun B
You sayin you’re the man, that’s the kid in you (kid in you)
Because we knowin what you did and what you didn’t do (didn’t do)
It’s not the shit you say, it’s the shit you not sayin (sayin)
You know better, show better, step it up and stop playin
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«Stop, playin»} Stop playin
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«Stop, stop»
You know better, show better, step it up and stop playin
Royce Da 5’9″
Niggaz be lyin, talkin ’bout they bust a heater
Once I see ’em they be more like Justin Bieber
Leave it, my rivals’ underground
Like Skyzoo’s how I do, I’ll have ’em layin on the ground
bleedin, butt-naked with a bullet
in his motherfuckin head like Erykah Badu
I find irony in bein in the place where
I’m wearin (Gucci Mane) gettin white-boy (WASTED)!
I tell a nigga break bread or take lead
I’m tryin to get rid of this weight, K-Fed
Me and Bun got a gangsta bond
We like that once-in-a-lifetime thang to you that ain’t the prom
I’m not a fan of no man, I’m not (Stan)
Flow like Niagara, that’s why they go God (dam)
I whip it up in the kitchen like pots and pans
I’m God-like, when I’m prayin I should stand
Chorus
Redman
Yes sir, yo Bun B I got this
Yes sir, awwwwwww
No rapper can rap, quite like I can
I’ll take your best-known rapper, and make him a fan
I’m the man homeboy, we run the block
I’ll make you say «Go Reggie» and do the wop
Ha ha, and I’m Doc, the nigga to hate
And my flow and yo’ swag, it don’t relate
Cause I’m GRRREAT, jewels like Frosted Flakes
Light-skinned, just one shade darker than Drake
I hold weight, when the camera rollin
It’s like golf how I got the (US Open)
Nigga I’m nice, I see you scopin
Think twice before you move that close in
That’s my dosage, call me tomorrow
Look so fly when you call me a barber
E’rything I write, call me the author
Baby I’m back, sorry I lost ya
Chorus
