lirik lagu yo-yo – home girl don’t play dat
how to survive in south central
rule number one: don’t fuck with a nigga in a benz-o
it’s ’92 and shit is getting hectic
so if you get naked stay protected (yep)
and keep an open eye, for people smoking high
cause that’s when you slip and you trip and ah…
once i knew this girl who dressed like a hooker
’til some niggers five-deep in the jeep came and took her
[?]
don’t blink if you wear a fat link, d-mn skippy
take it from a sister who knows the street life
bo knows sports, i take no shorts
a woman gotta do what a woman gotta do
make one move and they’ll gat you
in the back—with a gat
the homegirl don’t play that!
(yeah)
[hook]
[samples]
(the homegirl don’t play that)
[verse 2]
rule number two: get yourself a crew
cause yo-yo rolls with the i.b.w
mama said never take candy from a stranger
nine times out of ten they put you in danger
so don’t let ’em, if you just met ’em
and he’s tryin’ to be a pimp and drive a nissan sentra
talkin’ that talk, [?]
fuck it, don’t trust ’em, from the biggest to the smallest
cause chances are he’s [?] than a smoker
so don’t let a fool honey child cause he smile
his faces come in all different sizes and shapes
a .38 works much better than some mace
foreign macaroni tony keep it in your coochie
cause only some hoochies let him pop that coochie
now he’s got the most maniacs on the meth
that’s why i stay strapped, homegirl don’t play that
(yeah)
(the homegirl don’t play that, trick) x4
(break ’em off)
don’t do it x4
break it down to the nitty-gritty; the city’s shitty (yep)
a place where they show no pity (uh!)
some just won’t take no for an answer
[?] disappear faster than casper
going with the purse, you’re running like [hershell?]
walkin’ down the block, you yellin’ “stop!
somebody call the police, he stole my diamonds and my pearls
a tall dark guy with a curl” uh
next-door neighbors, nice people
but they don’t want no beef, so they see no evil
hear no evil. you better go tell a friend
cause you’ll probably never see your liz claiborne again
it’s off to the slums, the winos and the b-ms
dial 9-1-1, wait-wait-wait ’til they come
so if you try to play me out like a toy
you gotta deal with three hundred and fifty-seven homeboys
don’t do it
(the homegirl don’t play that, punk)
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