Man, let me hit that, man
You gon’ pass that?
Man, the scene was so thick
Lowriders, ’77 Sevilles, El Dogs
Nothin’ but them ‘Lacs
All the players, all the hustlers
I’m talkin’ ’bout a Black man Heaven here
You know what I’m sayin’?
Yeah
It’s beginnin’ to look a lot like, what? Follow my every step
Take notes on how I crept, I’s bout to go in depth
This is the way I creep my season, here’s my ghetto rep
I kept, to say the least, no, no, it can’t cease
So I begin to piece my two and two together
Gots no snowy weather, have to find somethin’ to do better, bet
I sets up trap, so shut up that
Nonsense about some silent— silent—
I gots it crunk, if it ain’t real, ain’t right
I’m like, no matter what the season, forever chill with Smith, I sip my fifth
I chill with Wesson, got my reasons, so tell me, what did you expect?
You thought I’d break my neck
To help y’all deck the— the—
Oh naw, I got other means of celebratin’
I’m gettin’ blizzard at HoJo, I gots that hoochie waitin’
I made it through another year, can’t ask for nothin’ much more
It’s OutKast for the books, I thought you knew, so now you know, let’s go
All the players came from far and wide
Wearin’ afros and braids, kickin’ them gangster rides
Now I’m here to tell you there’s a better day
When the player ball is happenin’ all day, every day
Hallelujah, hallelujah
You know, I do some things more different than I used to
‘Cause I’m a player, doin’ what the players do
The package store was closed, okay, my day is ruined
This is ridiculous, I’m gettin’ serious, I’m gettin’ curious
‘Cause the house is smellin’ stank, the chitlins old as bitches
I made no wishes ’cause I’m mobbin’ folk niggas in the back
Gettin’ tipsy off the nog and high as hell off the contact smoke
They havin’ a smoke out in my back seat (Yeah)
They passin’ herb, rewindin’ verses ’cause it’s in the air
I hit the parks, I hit the cuts, I’m hittin’ switches
‘Cause I’m switchin’ from side to side, lookin’ for hoes and snitches
I’m wide open on the freeway, my pager broke my vibe
‘Cause a junkie is a junkie three-sixty-five
It’s just another day of work to me, the spirit just ain’t in me
Grab my pistol and my ounce, see what them junkies gotta give me
‘Cause it’s like that, ha, yeah
Forever pimpin’, never slippin’, that’s how it is (Check it)
All the players came from far and wide
Wearin’ afros and braids, kickin’ them gangster rides
Now I’m here to tell you there’s a better day
When the player ball is happenin’ all day, every day
Ain’t no chimneys in the ghetto, so I won’t be hangin’ my socks on no chimney
I’m full as a tick, fix me a plate, I got the remedy
Some greens and that ham, not
Don’t need no ham hocks, don’t play me like I’m smokin’ rocks
I got the munchies, we got the Mary Jane in the Dungeon
Just to let you niggas know, in ’93, that’s how we comin’
So ho-ho-hoes, check my king-ass ‘fro
The gin and juice has got me tipsy, so, um
It goes, give me ten and I’ll serve you then, now we bend
The corner in my Cadillac
My heart does not go pitty-pat for no rat
I’m leaning back, my elbow’s out the window
Coke, rum and indo fills my body, where’s the party?
We roll deep, we dip to Underground, sees a lot of hoes around
I spit my game while waiting countdown
A five, four, a three, two, here comes the one
A new year has begun, P-Funk, spark another one, yeah
All the players came from far and wide
Wearin’ afros and braids, kickin’ them gangster rides
Now I’m here to tell you there’s a better day
When the player ball is happenin’ all day, every day
Here’s a lil’ something for the players out there, hustlin’
Gettin’ down for theirs
From East Point (Yeah), College Park (Check it out)
Decatur (College Park), the ‘Briar (Southwest Atlanta)
You know, niggas worldwide (The ‘Briar)
Down for theirs (Yeah)
All the players came from far and wide
Wearin’ afros and braids, kickin’ them gangster rides
Now I’m here to tell you there’s a better day
When the player ball is happenin’ all day, every day
All the players came from far and wide
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