No More Play in G.A. Lyrics
[Intro]
(phone ringing)
Pastor Troy: Y'all watch this, watch this (laughs)
Guy on phone: No Limit Studios
Pastor Troy: yea, yea, yea, can I speak to P?
Guy on phone: P ain't here!
Pastor Troy: (chuckles) Hey yo, tell him that Pastor Troy and them Down South Georgia Boys said since everybody think they soldiers then what's up, we'll go to war...
[Hook][4x]
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
Ain't no more play in GA (We Ready!)
[Verse 1]
What's up? Big mouth, big talk, big game
Teacher's pet, takin' names, pop the tec, takin' aim
Plenty range, plenty shot
Plenty change, plenty Glocks
Packin heat and I'mma keep em' hot
And I'mma take my cut right off the top
Cuz I'm not, nothing like
Anyone, once on the mic
Wish you might, show ya right
Have y'all thinking I'm Barry White
In the night, pack em' tight, call the fight, T.K.O
We got mo', you ain't know, numero uno
Keep a O we burnin slow, we optimo, y'all swisher sweets
And don't compete, I'm too unique, sit back be quiet when the Pastor preach
I make the beat, you beat your meat, yeah punk you touch yourself
It be Pastor Troy, D.S.G.B, represent until my death
And anyone else, that want us, you can trust, it ain't no fear
You can talk that in my ear, but it ain't shit, 'til you come down here
And anyone else, that want us, you can trust, it ain't no fear
You can talk that in my ear, but it ain't shit, 'til you come down here
[Hook 2x]
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
Ain't no more play in GA (We Ready!)
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
Ain't no more play in GA (We Ready!)
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
Ain't no more play in GA (We Ready!)
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
My nigga fuck what ya say (We Ready!)
Shit real
[Verse 2]
Fake gold, fake soul, sold this, sold that
Story grew old, old vogues, old lac
But I'm back, verse two, and you, know me
Ain't no, owe me, you die, slowly
Holy, Bible, assault, rifle
Thou shalt, not kill, unless they make you feel
Like they, superior, naw brah, who you wit'
D.S.G.B. my clique, all the money that we can get
In the mix, gone and pick, I'm like Vicks Vapor Rub
Pinch a nick up out your dubb, who the fuck you think I was
Enough of the talkin', talkin', what's up
If we actin up, you best be backin up
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Been buck, re-up, red mouth, straighten me
All these niggas be hatin me, because we keep all the D
O-P, add a E, O.P.P. we ain't down
None of my folks don't fuck around, quick to spit every round
Come on clown, you so bad, you so raw, you so mean
In the car, looking mean, all you see, is the beam
I'm the king, of the throne, still shown, every song
Punks do not live too long, Pastor Troy and now it's on
[Hook 2x]
Shit real
[Verse 3]
I make the ghetto my lobby, make they habit my hobby
Bought a little Arm & Hammer, cook it, sell then copy
Got me watchin for coppers, all I want is to prosper
Niggas clowning with me, don't know they claimin they "G"
So fuck T.V. cuz this real, just change your hand change the station
Watch the story bout hatin', then another bout basing
I'm taking risks to get it, but now I'm sick of this shit
So with these last couple dollars, we gone flip it legit
I bought this beat machine, bout big as a calculator
Who would have ever dreamed we hit the studio later
Its like I owe them basers, for making me take this serious
Wasn't for the struggle cuz, you would not be hearing this
In the midst I'm frisked bout three times a day
What I'm doing down here? Nigga this where I stay
I just pray, that I relay, a message to some
And let them know, goddamn, ain't no more play where I'm from
[Hook 2x]
Now shit's real
