Bay Area Playaz

[Intro: JD] Ayy, what's up, man? To all my Bay Area motherfuckin' playas, mayne I wanna send a shoutout and just say "one love" to all y'all, mayne Keep pimpin' a ho Nevertheless, though, it's that JD motherfucker comin' strictly outta Fillmoe, mayne And y'all gon' love me when I drop this new shit I'm still milking y'all like cereal, nigga, E.N.E.S.E.A.T [Verse 1: Seff tha Gaffla] Financial status for Seff is looking slim Should I grab the sack, post up over by the gym? Every day that I maintain, evil thoughts pollute my brain Should I grab the mic or should I go and grab the 'caine? True to the game, so many know of my authority Straight up out the left, it's Get Low Playaz less Priority San Francisco, Cali, FilthyMoe, that is my area Tryna gain some stripes with the strike and I'ma bury ya [Verse 2: Ant D.O.G.] Now I've been fuckin' around with these Bay Area players for quite some time That nigga peepin' the game, about my fetti, and I ain't getting bigger In the industry, they'll remember when I spark Ant D.O.G. in your deck while you chillin' at the park Ain't it wasn't no lying the way I defined a hustler A nigga that's deep on game, Northern Bay ballin' bubbler Ain't it a shame how their game stay the same Along with these real niggas 'cause only them fakers change [Verse 3: Ray Luv] Define me as a hustler, mayne, young nigga in the game Selling better than cocaine, I put that on my family name Other players did the same Made some mail, ghetto fame Wanna plea, who's to blame? Now they found ain't nothing changed Niggas out to flip it quick 'cause ain't no time just to kick it If she can't make them riches, y'all best shake them bitches Hustle cash, dividends, buy that house you living in Young Ray Luv, LC and Bay Area player 'til the end, nigga [Verse 4: Pizzo] Well, if you did not know, the Heatman's gon' wreck shop Keep on dropping this until I get all my props From the East O, Killa Cali, where dope fiends will rock you And leave you shot in the alley, 'cause ain't no time to play In the vicinity of the Bay Area playas and Pizzo smoke nothing but indo stuffed in a green leaf Vega Comin' out the Bay, we got those players and those player haters, biatch [Verse 5: Mac Mall] Night and day, I think about money to make Pimp shit raps and mac beat breaks Daytons and Vogues, scandalous hoes Bitches when they see me getting freaky at shows Young niggas like myself getting major paid P.H.'n ass bustas with their scandalous ways Messy motherfuckers spreading rumors And them punk police that be lovin' to do ya I wonder why they wanna shut me down Jealousy is like a doozy running through my town You could bet your life that a sucker gon' save her How can you say you got game and you be hatin' a player? [Verse 6: JT the Bigga Figga] Straps on top of straps to get your money on Overcoming obstacles so we could carry on Game tight when things get hectic Coming up so fast, so unexpected [Verse 7: Trev G] In Fillmore, Cali, we maneuver to pursue the top notch status Which consist of living lavish, it's some suckers and some savages The savages is having it, establishing their paper From slanging crack to pulling jacks and even major capers No one's catching the vapors Came up in the game and flipped some thangs And dissed you player haters who can't maintain but still they claim They top notch, equivalent to highest? Yo, Trev the G from the KLP is among the nation's finest [Verse 8: The Delinquents] Delinquents, outta control, going nation Predicted by radio station but destined to be the shit on compilation You gots to be about your scrilla, but niggas ain't never came realer Than them dank or die killers And the niggas in the Bay, they feel us Simp ass pimp on a punk ass bitch Quick to shelter two ho shit Heater light your ass like BIC Then take your broads 'cause it's the shit It's Delin-Q-U-E-N-T, we're flossing major It's the East Oakland flavor, kicking it with Get Low Playaz [Verse 9: Master P] Well, it's that TRU player Master P Kickin' it in Fillmoe with that young nigga JT I'm from the Rich, got the town Where them niggas smoke weed and get danked out They gets mad 'cause I'm rich and famous Riding on Daynas but P's still a fuckin' gangsta Cuttin' up ki's in the kitchen Counting riches, and fuckin' bitches [Verse 11: JT the Bigga Figga] Elevate after I meditate, now watch you get blazed Contemplated 'bout my scrilla so I had to paid It don't matter, so get to the spot and I might get wit'cha Get 'em up from the back, I'm the one with the sack So take that fuckin' picture So I can hit ya, millimeter-meter, you know they won't stop playin' Mini-Mac 10, you might not wanna take that ride because they ready to lay ya Because these niggas from the Bay don't play We gots to get our paper each and every fuckin' day [Verse 12: Black C] See, it's the nigga with the gat blastin', checking cash in But right now a nigga flashin' Thinkin' about them bustas, ho trusters, infiltrators Mack killer player haters See, I got that Glock that go pop when a nigga like blast, nigga My shit hit like the motherfuckin' Task, nigga Ask my homie JT Can you fade me when a nigga like workin' with .380? [Verse 13: JT the Bigga Figga] Kickin' up the dust but on the daily I bust Whenever the microphone disperses, we game tight with verses Rehearse this for factors, dispose of these jackers These hard times, these actors Chapters to make me smack the Checks break necks and run in the 'jects, pack TECs And cover their bets, no sweats And rippin' the sets now best You can get yourself together, whatever 'Cause players in the Bay, we stick together on a motherfuckin' daily Biatch!