Int'l Players Anthem
So I typed a text to a girl I used to see Sayin' that I chose this cutie pie with whom I wanna be And I apologize if this message gets you down Then I CC'ed every girl that I'd see-seed 'round town And hate to see y'all frown but I'd rather see her smilin' Wetness all around me, true but I'm no island Peninsula maybe, it makes no sense, I know crazy Give up all this pussy cat that's in my lap, no lookin' back Spaceships don't come equipped with rear view mirrors They dip as quick as they can, the atmosphere is now ripped I'm so like a pimp, I'm glad it's night So the light from the sun would not burn me on my bum When I shoot the moon, high jump the broom Like a preemie out the womb, my partner yelling "too soon Don't do it! Reconsider, read some liter- -ature on the subject. You sure? Fuck it You know we got your back like chiroprac-tic If that bitch do you dirty we'll wipe her ass out in some detergent Now hurry hurry go on to the altar I know you ain't a pimp, but pimp remember what I taught ya: Keep your heart, Three Stacks, keep your heart Hey keep your heart, Three Stacks, keep your heart Man these girls is smart, Three Stacks, these girls is smart Play your part, play your part" My bitch a choosy lover, never fuck without a rubber Never in the sheets, like it on top of the cover Money on the dresser, drive a Kompressor Top notch hoes get the most, not the lesser Trash like to fuck with $40 in the club Fuckin' up the game, bitch it gets no love She be cross country, givin' all that she got A thousand a pop, I'm pullin' Bentleys off the lot I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red Every time we hit the parkin' lot we turn head Some hoes wanna choose but them bitches too scary Your bitch chose me, you ain't a pimp, you a fairy Baby you been rollin' solo, time to get down with the team The grass is greener on that other side, if you know what I mean I show you shit you never seen, the Seven Wonders of the World And I can make you the eighth if you wanna be my girl When I say my girl I don't mean my woman, that ain't my style Need a real street stalker (stalker) to walk a green mile We piling up the paper on the dining room table Cause you able to realize I'm the truth and not a fable We rock the freshest Sable, keep that 'chilla on the rack What I look like with some thousand dollar shit up on my back? I'm a million dollar mack that need a billion dollar bitch Put my pimpin' in your life, watch ya daddy get rich Easy as A-B-C, simple as 1-2-3 Get down with U-G-K, Pimp C, B-U-N B Cause what's a ho with no pimp, and what's a pimp with no hoes Don't be a lame, you know the game and how it goes We tryna get chose Eeny meeny decisions, with precision I pick or Make my selection on who I choose to be wit' girl Don't touch my protection, I know you want it to slip But slippin' is somethin' I don't do, tippin' for life That's like makin' it rain every month on schedule Let me tell you, get your parasol umbrella Cause it's gonna get wetter Better prepare ya for the C support She supposed to spend it on that baby but we see she don't "Ask-ask Paul McCartney, the lawyers couldn't stop it" "Slaughter-slaughterin' of them pockets" "Had to tie her to a rocket" Send her in to outer space, I know he wish he could Cause he payin' 20K a day, that bitch is eating good Like an infant on a double D titty, just getting plump Cause you miscalculated the next to the-the last pump "Dump-dump in the gut, raw from the giddy up" "Better choose that right one or pick-pick the kiddies up" "(Shit)"
Written by: BERNARD JAMES FREEMAN, CHAD L. BUTLER, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD, WILLIE M. HUTCH
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
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