Текст песни
Uh, Yeah. Hey, Rock, I gotta talk my shit. You feel me? 'Cause life been different, you know what I'm Saying? I be ducked off and shit. Nothing but slow bunnies, bitches with big money. You feel Me? Uh, Yeah, hold on. Let me catch my shit. Uh, yeah. Pre-approved for some millions. Oh, Lord, what a feeling when you did it On your own. Custom lights in the ceiling, Oriental rugs and hotel rooms full of women. Coconut wash feel like dust when you sniff it. And the game watered down, feel like Ritter with No filter. They let everybody in, Hard to tell who really with it. Few got it out the mud, the rest lied And said they did it. Cappin' 'bout bitches they hang with and said they Hit it, but they didn't. Man, them niggas simpin'. She laughing with her friends behind your back, You shoulda listened to a nigga like P, It's capital for the pimpin'. That's why I hit the Bel Air in a Bitch coupe, I'm never trippin'. 'Cause they praise the most high, it's P, I'm your religion. Thirty-something with no kids, It's amazing to her. Her friends raving to her. The crib wasn't vacant at first. I had a stable full of stallions who paid For the verse. Furniture from Italy, the same brand As say on her purse. Your girl say I'm a keep. But believe I ain't saving you, girl. Just come and beckon for the weekend like live In my world. Breakfast at Tiffany's, Bitch, you still in the Little League. I just hopped a flight to Sicily, eating on Squid and things. They say it's the little things, But, ho, I got big dreams. I'm from where it's wild at, I play for A real team. West Side players only, Bitch, I play in the big leagues. No, no, no. Keep that index finger on the Ball, on the ball, all right? Joe's too pumped up, trying to win a Heisman On every damn throw. I don't think he's ready For all this hype. It's a little late to Worry about that now. Hike! And if we don't do something to follow up That Sports Illustrated cover, it's gonna look like We don't believe in our own kid. Hey, let me worry about it, please. Go, go, go! Yeah. Set! Blue 80! Blue 80! Hike!
Jay Worthy, Roc Marciano — Players Only
«Players Only» — Jay Worthy, Roc Marciano. Читайте текст песни и подпевайте с караоке-подсветкой: строки текста подсвечиваются в такт музыке. Слушайте онлайн бесплатно или скачайте mp3. Длительность записи — 2:37. Жанр — Рэп и хип-хоп.
