Übersetzung: MR. 3-2. Nicht Play.
down, S.U.C. don't play won't play All day hogging, better get it Go get it, and come back with it [Mr. 3-2] 2001, living in big houses big Benzes Mr. 3-2
're so fine, I can't take it You gots to freak it, you gots to shake it! [Chorus] [Mr. Mixx] To the left... [Brother Marquis] Yeahhhhh! Get it get it! [Mr
got more bitches than me and you Now bulldaggers, you know they don't play fair They get all the pussy, and they don't share But they game is strong and
knock it Even put some money in your pocket Don't overcharge or play with my heart I got cash or a credit card Don't make me beg for a piece of ass All
see me they start to holler, "Marquis want some head and $500?" (Ha ha ...) 'Cause I'm a three-piece nigga, bitch, I don't play I want the pussy, the
come! [Chorus] [Outro: Mr. Mixx] Mr. Mixx, producer of 2 Live! Niggas slip, but I'ma let that slide. Dope producer, you know I ain't playin', got 3
ve gotta fuck, don't fuck yourself Use protection for others, if not yourself 'Cause people are fuckin', and this is true What you don't know is who's
S. don't play I'm the Griff, and I speak profound I'm down with Luke and the Ghetto Bass sound! [Verse 2: Lejuan Love] Yo, check out the Mr. Mixx beat
Monica] Mm-hm. [Bill] Well, what would you do with this cigar? [Monica] Well why don't you let me show you, Billy. Ooh! Don't do that, baby! Ahh! Hold
: [Mr. Mixx] Ghetto Style Dee-Jays! Don't touch that stereo! Ghetto Bass [Verse 1: Fresh Kid Ice] What's up, party people, we're back again Bringin'
't tell the snakes from the fakes Fakes from the phonies, enemies of homies Around the corner there's another nigga waiting to jack He don't know I got
from the money I made Its a state I have brought, Growing up its by naturally I don't give a fuck Still Ballin!!! [Chorus: 2Pac] Still ballin, 'til the
Mr. Sly a music wi playing Well from now bad man I talking Well Taxi Gang don't you know dem run di tune And don't yuh know sehh a we have di engine
offa mi tongue Bwoy you musee dumb (Hey!) Chorus Verse 2: MR. VEGAS I rather go on death row Than tough it out like John Crow Badman naw play zero
Clair, And we smokin' them green leaves, fuck with me now, Oh nigga don't test rest, straight Leatherface in the place On a mission don't be messin' with
, mo murda Better pack that five five, I'm feelin' like killin' you dying tonite, You don't wanna hear that glock pop, When the glock pop pop don't stop
