Playas Only

Lyrics

[Intro: Don Mykel & Dyme-A-Duzin] …soul lil baby …whole lil baby (Young Dyma) (Swank Sinatra) (You invited to the barbeque) (Crown fried) (Playas only) (Sheesh) Dyma, uh [Verse 1: Dyme-A-Duzin] Picture me rollin' A spliff bigger than BIG's fingers Mind frame aimed at the land of the big spenders Wrist on froze, oh my God, did it hit winter? Album 'bout to drop this fall, it's a hit, nigga I'm tired of these clowns, this is it Won the Olympics need a Gold medal, endless Crown chicken and thick strippers The living in their lyrics is fictitious, I'm authentic It's not a role if the boy said it, I just did it Bridging these gaps too big for britches Flow Chris Rivers, a lil pun No way I can spark anticipation and then show up to the station like I'm Biggie's son Make too many bands for you to send mе on a Diddy run Seasoned, see why I can feel some typе of way Giving singers and MCs that roam my streets the light of day The reason for Dymez by the duzin, the Don of this shit Astonishin'; astronomical, the dollars that's spent', illogical My only goals to uplift 'em, inspire the gifted, never Settle for less in this wicked land that we live in If getting paid in blue Benjamins to focus, I'm the only elite Train for the Wimbledon, streets claiming my innocence Damn I swear this shit got me feelin' just like Sha'Carri Talented and black, knowing most could never come near me Dealing in industries insensitive to our feelings In the process of adaptin', they after me tryna [kill me] [Verse 2: Stro] Yeah I'm a East Coast resident Represent, step in my square Niggas be hesitant Heaven-sent, reincarnate, living in hell again Y'all gotta nod, I'm the God and it's evident Church Ave, '96, dollar cab, selfish Then I'm ready 'round 6, I grew up around crips They seen the dream and they told me pursue So just know, when I blew, they knew If you don't like, get sued, oops I left shawty on read She talk a gang of shit but ain't tryna give me head Wanna line me up for the bread And tape shit while I'm faded Now that's the type of stuff I dread I stay sharp like clippers, on the daily Fresh cuts every week you gotta cheer me On, stroll with one style, they live Only thing in the box is my crown-fried Yeah [Verse 3: Daylyt] Got some new fans blowing cause I'm the heir Ventilate, grave site, right, straight to the point Penetrate; dinner plate, this ain't the meal I want I need a million; I'm still in America, see the pilgrims Pale white hearts come around, carousel Thinking Tinker Bell but y'all stuck in a fairy tale Titanic, shit back crack and still lazy Showboating at the park but we still appear crazy Sees, lot, yall trips the plot we live Big yachts, it's a lot to see, better document Get the paper tight It's gon' hurt but I still need the acre, like This land mine, tell 'em one step and it's over Explode ya Hop in the ring sus, you must've been gold dust Must've been cold cause The last time I rode the subway Three different meetings, nigga, we eating [Verse 4: Rome Streetz] Players only, macaroni All facts while your bitch wan' kick back and mack on Romey Been shinin', hoes call me Goldie Name ringing all over the internet like the best goalie So it's a large fee for the flow, pay the dough, b Get the picture like Adobe The dough be, on my mind Potent OG left my crown fried We two kings in a county, Rome Streetz and Dymes A dozen hoes tryna slide out they underclothes I put 'em in a figure Ford then I vamanos Four figures for the clothes and it's Abilos When niggas punch out your fit then it's adios (Run it) Be with hats and locs, out for blue notes On the side, niggas shootin' like cool coach Over bread, they grip triggers on a new toast Light you up like National Grid, then they get ghost [Verse 5: Don Mykel] Look Superfly shit G5 pilots couldn't see how high I get Your fake ass claim business class in a tight clip Tie knots tighter than my clique In a circle like a vise grip, your vibe switch I walked off, you ducked off Goose in a noose can't hang with us Foot on they necks, they reachin' long 'til the stainless touch Clip your wings, I could hook up a saint on angel dust PCP out the pain comes plush I'm thus driven autonomously Prominent prowess will power with dominant ease Your conglomerate cowers meeting Dymes and the promising league No lick with the Dymes, I'm dishing blam(?), Magic Johnson and Steez Abracadabra, when you in need of aid, they disappear Your head as well, funny, the bystanders just sit and stare Get your pockets ran by the blindside, is your vision clear? Step into my range box, cut, we flippin' squares Tired of roping dope til the veins bite Coping with the pain, like I can spot a fiend by the lean, uh I got what you need, what you need What you need? I can heal your soul, lil' baby I make you whole, lil' baby You know, lil' baby [Outro: Don Mykel] Ha, playas only Shit get major lonely on this side This side, ha Shit get major lonely on this side This side, this side Hahaha, yeah, huh Dyme, what up, nigga Home in the BK Do it, all day, all night 'Til the song right Gotta get the song right Alright, yeah Shit is alright We gon' be- We gon' be alright, we gon' be We gon' be alright, yeah La-da-di-da-di-da