Bitch I Don’t Play

Chorus: (x2)
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
You better have my paper!
You better have my paper!

(Verse 1:Wais P)
Bitch, I don’t play around, I got car notes
Drop two Gs every week at the bar, hoe
Wais P I twist Ketel One Vodka
Known at the sea food house for cracking lobsters
Five pounders, mushrooms stuffed flounders
Living like a boss it's a habit to floss
I’m the life of every party
Four hoes with bad bodies, jumping off the Ducati's
Living life like the young John Gotti
Except, I ain’t here to pop clips
Just to break me a bitch, shit!

Chorus: (x2)
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
You better have my paper!
You better have my paper!

(Verse 2:Wais P)
Baby girl, we both need money in this world
And I ain’t got no perm, or no curl
All I got is dick for a bitch if she making me rich
If she ain’t paying me cash, I ain’t touching that ass!
I don’t care how fly you are, how shy you are
If you’re a lawyer, a doctor, your body is so proper!
If you ain’t paying me, you’re deader than Hoffa
Can’t be on my team, can’t be on my roster
Can’t go platinum, can’t win no Oscar
Can’t be no step child, can’t be no foster
Unless you got paper to offer to these pimp squad monster
Macking on somebody’s daughter
I’m yelling that:

Chorus: (x2)
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
You better have my paper!
You better have my paper!

(Verse 3:Mistah F.A.B.)
Hey hoe, listen, there ain’t no games with me
I get paid if a bitch try to hang with me
Son of a pimp,pimping in my veins you see
Cause I’mma pimp my blood, not relation, I’m G!
And momma said Fab never love a bad hoe
Daddy was a pimp, nicknamed San Pablo
My last hoe gave me cash out the asshole
So when rap dough math slow
I turn to John Stockton with the dimes, I pass hoes!
Corn rows, micro braids, or afro's
Long as the math grows
I ain’t tripping, I’m pimping, trying to knock me a fast hoe!

Chorus: (x2)
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
Bitch, I don’t play around, I get money
You better have my paper!
You better have my paper!