Play My Cards

(To) (to) (to) (To the tic) (To the tic-tic) --> Slick Rick Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah Kurupt Young Gotti Hell yeah Raw Dawg You know You know me Raw Dawg Assassin Comin atcha, baby Cat, kick it in Kick it in [ VERSE 1 ] Pull up... Soon as I park shit sparks Spit fire, gangbang affiliation, retaliation Spit sparks till shit's dark forever What's up, homie Why you walkin up on me? Postin up in the shade We can draw or get paid You ain't movin not a thing, homeboy Click em with automatics and automatic toys Bounce, rock, rollerskatin Dippin down the streets on platinum Daytons (Yo, what up?) I'm just a gee Oh yeah, that's me Don't forget it Act like you knew it 'fore I set it I put the needle on top of the wax Before I turn around And burn everything to the ground I seen it comin A fool over to the right gunnin The homies whistled We all draw pistols [ CHORUS ] Gotta stay in charge Gotta play my cards On the grind all day, babe Oh, gots to get paid [ VERSE 2 ] You got a stash to hid, you got some hash to hit? Cash to get, glocks to pop and shit (What you talkin bout?) Everybody's got questions and shit (Hey yo, what's up with...?) Muthafuckas questionin shit (Shut the fuck up, homie) Worryin bout me and my wife (My wife) All I want to do is live my life (That's all) Raise up off me, homie (Yeah) Ease back softly, homie (Check it out) I'm a gee from the D.P.G. And no matter what you say, you can't fuck with me Hey loco, I see you want to loc out Coastin, movin in locomotion In the cut dippin, the homeboys trippin Spittin, waitin for a shot to get called The homie spit a plot to us Then passed the 16-shots to us Uh-you-uh Uh-you-uh Uh-you-uh [ VERSE 3 ] I got scams for hundreds of gramms Me and my man, me and my pistol, a plan For about a Whole ki load of some powder Stashin, dippin, dashin, smashin, tryin to cash in >From the front to the back, and packin Pull the strap and start clappin I'm about to move a little somethin A little sumptin-sumpin For the homie, pack the pump and get to dumpin Hit the liquor store, I want to get paid A fifth of Hen, then back to the shade What you got, smoke, loc, let's blaze up Let me get a toke, loc, and let's raise up Punks stop and get popped when funk pop I'm worldwide while you thinkin: either he is or he's not International like [???] You can feel me In the real way [ CHORUS ] Bitches, get your ride on, on Kurupt Young Gotti Raw Dawg Just get your ride on Just get your ride on, homie My nigga Battlecat Ha-ha Just get your ride on, homie (To the tic-tic And you don't quit Hit it) This is for the riders Riders The riders Hustlers Hustlers The hustlers This is the one, baby! (Tic-toc) (Ya) (ya) (ya don't) (Ya) (ya) (ya) (ya don't stop) (stop) (stop) Bitch