"I Don’t Play" as written by and Mark Giveand Keith Thornton....
Yo yo yo
Worldwide worldwide
Cool Keith in Bronx housing
Ninety nine 2000
As we get biz yeah
I'ma let you have it
Let's do this

Yo my life is clientele while pro people talk about me
Cut empty pocket shark faces like electric sockets
Sideburns with afro nasty pro throw like Rollo
In Wells Fargo cashin' checks while you tryin to borrow
My game is cut through plastic come, we can see through
disco music, jazz loops, I ain't tryin' to be you
Nineteen-ninety-nine, 2000 black, new design
My head is on right
Back up kid you wasn't born right
Playin' center I block your wack raps like Bill Cartwright
Pick up your rebounds, plastic soft production sounds
All MC groups will be cartoons like Mother Goose
No joke I bust back
Kid for real, watch your buttcrack
Entourages, movin' neighborhoods like Mr. Rogers
Slam rhymes on concrete, mash em up in car garages
Cadillac spin, open magazines, Vibe again
You're jealous stare lickin', paws like you're Rin-Tin-Tin
I'm back again, I stop your programs like Gentle Ben
Yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Chorus: x4]
I'll be the man, watch your backpack, pen and pencil
School today! Grown man, I don't play

Back up the turnpike, watch Mad Max turn into you
Get gassed at truckstops, leave diesel fuel, burnin' through you
I come to boo you, best believe, I'm a damager
Cancel shows, interviews, I don't need no manager
Slash fan, half of y'all, think I'm the Elephant Man
Look through my records analyze me like I'm Michael Jackson
Collect my vinyl DJ moves spinnin' on my wax and
groupies in line, camera flashes, I don't need the action
Sweaty hotels, dumbbells, I'd rather shop in Modell's
while y'all wear backpacks, with corny macks, rollin L's
CD's get melted, ask your favorite rapper, how he felt it
I turn on others, light up this, when I'm cookin' muffins
That's on the grill, make your girlfriend buy my Ampex reels
Pay for studio time, droppin' verse with dope words
I'm on the real herb, pick up mics you got some nerve
Rahway State Prison bring my projects in the music business
That's if you with this, yo Craig, there will be no witness
I'm comin' through with Bronx Crew, a black, boo-ba-babboon
Tecs in my pockets make your feets dance, do the lockin'
Yeah (yeah.. yeah.. yeah.. yeah..)


Yo, what are you doin' lookin' in my closet?
Why are you tryin' to try on my sneakers?
Stop lookin' around in my kitchen
That's right it's Honeycomb up there, raviolis
Everything a regular man eats
I'm not the Elephant Man, whassup?

You don't scare me, I'm the man that bought your girl some hair
Walk in giant arenas and stop your show at Madison Square
With security, you can't call the Secret Service
Got your roadie cases packed up, your bookin' agent nervous
Backstage passes special units break your Fendi glasses
Cancel your flights, Town Car, see me in the brown car
Rip up your passport, I follow you through Kennedy airport
Lock up the gates, town seize up, like Norman Bates
Book Hotel Niko change my face up, in Puerto Rico
Julio Gongado bumpin' beats, in a El Dorado
I'm movin' swiftly, the game is fast, very quickly
Greyhound bus tickets, I'll vick you for the whole season
That's the reason I'll be easin', eatin' cheese and
that's right kid, yeah (yeah.. yeah..)


Yeah, that's right, watch your backpacks
For the nine-nine to the 2000
From Bronx Housing

Lyrics submitted by ButNeverOutgunned

"I Don't Play" as written by Keith Thornton


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I Don’t Play song meanings
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