Plies Ol’ Lady Lyrics

Ay man I heard there's a couple of *****s around here
Who said they don't like me dog (say they don't like me)
And I got there's a couple *****s around here brah
Who owe me a lil' paper
*****s ain't answering they phone no mo (no cash!)
Man I ain't gon' grab the yoppa dog (I ain't gon' do it)
I'ma tell you how I'ma handle this here dog (what you gon' do)

[Chorus: x2]
***** owe me some money he ain't gotta pay me
Got something for you **** *****s who playa hatin'
***** claiming he don't like me but its all gravy
Keep playing with me and I'ma **** ya ol' lady

[Verse 1]
Make yo ***** leave home and don?t come bike
Sit her down in that Chevy and change her whole life
Make her hang in the hood and watch me shoot dice
And take her back to the crib and **** her on 50 stikes
Before you play with me dog you better get it right
Tell you straight up homie I'm playin' real trife
Walk straight up in the club ***** wit yo wife
And make her dance in front of me while I drank yike
And let her and her home-girls rock all night
And just to piss you off I'ma let her throw a stike
And every time you see her I'ma dress her in something tight
And when you start to miss her I'ma make you buy ha bike
And let her push the whip while I sit in the bike
And make yo ho sleep naked wit me all night
And put hickies all over her ***** that's what she likes
Keep playing with me and I'll **** up ya whole life

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 2]
I don't want yo side ho ***** I want yo main *****
The one you call baby the one you in love with
And then make yo hoe pack yo ****
And make her call you right now and tell you its over wit
Before she hang up the phone she gon' tell you she's plies *****
And when you call her back gonna have her number switched
And I'ma **** her everyday until I get her thick
And Make her put my name on her nails and ****
And keep her hair did fa her and full of ****
I Might move her out the hood ***** just to pick
I know how to make you *****s lose weight real quick
And have you walking round this ***** looking real sick
I'll have ya *** embarrassed hanging around ya own click
I'll make you call me ***** and say plies I quit
I'ma tell you I'm counting money so I'll hit you bike jit
And hang right up the phone and lay on yo *****

[Chorus: x2]

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