Players Anthem - Remix

Niggas, uh
 Bitches, ha
 Uh
 (Niggas) grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 (Bitches) rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
 Gotcha, open off the words I say because
 (This type of shit, it happens every day) (check it out, uh)
 Now, who smoke more blunts than a little bit?
 What are you a idiot? Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's
 Got mad guns up in the cabin
 'Cause Cease ain't the one for the dibbin' and dabbin' shit
 I make it happen, you got your ass caught
 All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport
 Or the M.P. (uh), what if you see, then I miss ya (what?)
 I blow up spots like little sisters
 G'wan grit ya teeth, g'wan bite ya nails to the cuticles
 Like Murray, my killings be the most beautiful
 Junior M.A.F.I.A. (uh) clique thick like Luke dancers
 Niggas grab your gats, bitches take a glance at
 The little one, pullin' over in the Land Rover (what?)
 Playin' Big Willie style with the chauffeur, you know I mean?
 Stack the green, read all between the lines
 A nigga act up (what?) Makes the bastard hard to find
 (Niggas) grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 (Bitches) rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
 Gotcha, open off the words I say because
 (This type of shit, it happens every day) uh
 (Niggas) grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 (Bitches) rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
 Gotcha open off the words I say because
 (This type of shit, it happens every day) uh, what, what?
 (How ya livin', Biggie Smalls?) I'm surrounded by criminals (uh-huh)
 Heavy rollers, even the sheisty individuals
 Smokin' skunk and mad Phillies
 Beatin' down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses (uh-huh)
 If robbery's a class, bet I pass it
 Shit get drastic, I'm buryin' ya bastards (uh)
 Big Poppa never softenin' (nigga)
 Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offering (nigga)
 Leave the fucker coughin' up blood, and his pockets like rabbit ears
 Covet the wife, Kleenex for the kid's tears
 Versace wear (uh-huh), Moschino on my bitches (uh-huh)
 She whippin' my ride, countin' my one's, thinkin' I'm rich, it's
 Just the way players play, all day every day
 I don't know what else to say
 I've been robbin' niggas since
 Run and them was singin' Here We Go
 Snatchin' ropes at the Roxy, homeboy, you didn't know? (Uh, uh, uh-huh)
 My flow, detrimental to your health
 Usually roll for self, I have son ridin' shotgun
 My mind's my nine, my pen's my MAC-10
 My target, all you wack niggas who started rappin'
 Junior M.A.F.I.A. steelo, niggas know the half (uh-huh)
 Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths
 Runnin' up in pretty bitches constantly
 The Smalls, bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be?
 (Niggas) grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 (Bitches) rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
 Gotcha open off the words I say because
 (This type of shit, it happens every day)
 (Niggas) grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 (Bitches) rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
 Gotcha open off the words I say because
 (This type of shit, it happens every day) what, what?
 I used to pack MACs in Cadillacs
 Now I pimp gats in the Ac's (uh), watch my niggas' backs (what?)
 Nines in the stores, Glocks in the bags
 Maxin' mini-markets, gettin' money with the Arabs
 No question (what?) Confession (who?) Yes, it's the lyrical
 Bitches squeeze your tits (uh), niggas grab your genitals
 Proteins and minerals, exclude subliminals
 Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals (uh)
 I kick the rilli with my peeps all day (ha)
 325's roll by with the windows down halfway
 DKNY, oh my, I'm jiggy
 It's all about the Smalls and my fuckin' nigga Biggie (What?)
 Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme
 'Cause they all in line screamin' "One more time"
 Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
 Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up (uh)