Aint Playin' [BKGO] Yea this is anotha BKGO Production DJ Mike Tate, Freddy D, MC Assault n BKGO We Doin' this shit wit Lil' Flip, Baby D, Killa Mike
motherfucker like me handles a bid like a jacket Strap it on my back, niggaz ain't built like me And by the end, niggaz was like, "Yo, why you killed Mike
Turn your rzights to left If you get dizzy don't look back Chorus: Well one of my fuckin' boys Packed and scope a nigga named mike I'm a long way from
Look at that lil' ass Westside doped out Insane in the brain, little nigga servin' Caine Use to have to axe could he cross the street Now he's rollin'
ya face up with fifty shots Sharp darts, and it pop, pop like tarts Extreme speed [Incomprehensible] like anakin inside the pod Headed for the finish line, watch Bobby cross
rebishlow Now bella rema bella Suma zappa retisgo (repeat chorus) Bella rema bella Suma zappa retisgo (repeat chorus twice) (words: tim cross / music: mike
the brain like Mike and despite them faulty ass niggaz who try to cross me smel of coffee, 'cause it's burnin I'm gettin that money like Mike Vernon
, yeah) I'm a hit it with the thang y'all Bright, ya'll, leave your lights on I'm headed for the background When I'm runnin' through a touchdown like Mike
(ed king -mike estes) I ain't the son of the seventh son, black cats won't cross my path Good luck comes I just watch it run and it sure does run out
-I-K-E to the D Getting down, U-N-K-L-E For this you pay a fee It's not for free We're coming to the end of the century Crossing continental with these
while I'm layin' out fools like kitchen tile You come around with a frown, and ya leave in a pile Step back man, I ain't a black man But everytime I grab the mike
thin line gotta defend my and with no pen im sort of like a bomb, boom young toon, yeah thats what my people call me 50,000 for the cross tryin to keep
thin line, gotta defend mine & wit no pen im sort of like a bomb boom young toon yea thatz wut my people call me 50 thousand 4 da cross tryin 2 keep
I-palm the game like it's a spalding ball and take flight From the free throw line and slam it down like I'm the great mike Bun and Wayne and Drake
know that smile anywhere Only less than I know that stare But do you know how you get into me Locking breath that easy I know the way your fingers cross
with certainty Ask me if I'm set to serve, I say, certainly Higher than the kite, I'm high off life At the height of my career, a high priest on mikes
With 50 other niggaz on the other side of the map Knew it's all good and all done what, we want some Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin' out Macs for
, lay, lay, my knuckles on ya jaw You won't never get a witness sayin' what they saw I ain't tryin' to be no victim, you wanna cross that line? I leave