Woorden:
Material The Playin With Fire

you even start to Playin with fire - don't you know that you're gonna get lit? Playin with fire - don't you know when to quit? Playin with fire - don

breath, air on popping you Put you on the guest list, go dance with death The club's dead, yeah, you right, you the last one left See the spooks in, goths in, devils in, fire

't even need guns, play me like I'm poppa shit End up with a hawk in your esophagus Hardest nigga to walk in the metropolis Genocide mixed with apocalypse

pop And I watch you, until your vital signs stop And walk off in the night, with no worries fuck the cops This shit is real dog, play with us and watch

... C'mere Yeah it's my shit, my shit Get up Yo grab that nigga, grab him *gun fires* Yo shit! *gun fires* Move Son! Move! *gun fires repeatedly

say it but then if you a liar-liar Pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent wit' a wire I'm gon' know it when I play it, it's bigger than Hip-hop, hip-hop,

little better than dope is Far from a brand new kid to show biz Tryna hold on, maintain my focus Coming out a room with a could of smoke Smokers rolling with

eyeing me, you fire escape diary Filled with pages of episodes and shying me Nonbeliever I hammer for hire Hit yo ass so hard that your coke will catch fire

with me on no night Fuck the slow light, you need to get your show right Yo, Justice, how many M.C.'s must get pistol whipped? Crack faces with bottles