Lyric Player s Ball

Intro:

Scene was so thick, low rides, seventy-seven Sevilles
El Dawgs, nuttin but them llacs
All the players, all the hustlers, i m talking about
Black man heaven, yah know what i m saying? Peace

Verse One:

it s beginnin to look a lot like what?
follow my every step take notes
on how i creep I s bout ta go in deep
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 something to do better bet!
i said subtract so shut up that
nonsense about some solid nine i got say
crock if it ain t real it
ain t right i m like no matter what the season
forever chill with spin i get my fin i chill with less
and got my reasons so tell me what did you expect?
you thought i d break my neck to help y all deck the halls oh
now i got nuther means of celebratin i m gettin biz to that ho-jo i
gots the hoochie waitin i made it through
to another year cain t ask fo much mo it s Outkast
for the boots i thought you knew so now you know
let s go

Chorus

all the players came from far and wide
wearing afros and braids in every gangstar ride
now i m here to tell yah there s a better day
when the player ball is happenin on christmas day

Verse Two

hallelujah hallelujah yah know i do some things more different than i
used ta coz i m a player doing what the players do the package store is
closed okay my deck is woofin this is rediculus i m gettin serious i m
gettin curious coz the house is smelling sick of chitlins all this
vicious i make no wishes coz the modern folk is in the back gettin tipsy
off the nog-en and i s in a hellova contact smoke they havin a smoke out
in my back seat they passing herb reminding verses coz it s in the air i
hit the parks hit the cuts i m makin switches clicking the switches side
ta side lookin for bitches watchin for snitches i m wide open on the
freeway my pager broke my vibe coz 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 they junkies got to give me coz
it s like that, yeah

clever pimpin, never slipin, that s how it is [check it!]

Verse Three

ain t no chimminies in the ghetto so i won t be hangin my socks on no
tip how far does it tick fix me a drink i got the remedy so bring in
that ham [not!] don t need no ham [hocks!] don t play me like i m smokin
rocks i got the money we gots the freaks in the dungeon just to let you
know coz in ninety three that s how we comin so hoe hoe hoes check my
king ass fro the gin and juice gots me tipsy so on

it goes hit me ten and i ll serve you then now we in the corner in my
cadillac my heart does not go pitty pat for no rat i m leaning back my
elbows out the windows cold rhyming indo fills my body where s the party
we rode deep we dip to underground see s a lot of hoes around i split my
game while waiting count down a five fo a three two here comes the one a
do yah have me copy folks spark another one

here s a little something for all the players out there hustling, gettin
down for theirs, from east point, college park, decatur, devrai, you
know world wide, down for theirs