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too $hort - better player lyrics

yeah man
these n-ggas always comin’ up to me
talkin’ bout
how do i feel about this b-tch
and that b-tch, and what do i think
man.. know what i tell these n-ggas?
man i ain’t trippin’ on you and your ho, man
got my own b-tches
i got my own ho’s, n-gga

(verse 1, too $hort)
now i don’t really care about’cha benz
or ya light-skinned b-tch
could give a f-ck who ya tell
you don’t like this sh-t
the fact still stands
you got one girlfriend
and i feel like
the whole world pimp
i can’t be like you
you always actin’ fake
i could tell you how much
a real mack can make
a million dollars ain’t sh-t to spend
i get some new ho’s, and get it again
so don’t tell me, what’chu wish for
you wanna be kept, by a rich ho?
b-tch -ss n-gga, tryina lic me a lic
she better pay me right now
if she wanna get some d-ck
i told you, got the game from the old n-ggas
every time i park my car, i come to gold-diggers
with the “easy p-ssy” sign, on display
if you lookin’ for some money
don’t come this way

(hook, too $hort)
you couldn’t be a better player than me
even if you f-cked every day of the week
i know you think you got it like platinum pete
i be f-ckin ho’s every day of the week

you never could be a better player than me
even if you rolled in luxury
i know you smoke c0ke and that top notch freak
you never could be a better player than me

(verse 2, too $hort)
now i don’t really care about’cha phone book
you think you’re pimpin’
ya chillin’ at the club
wit’ all ya women
you lyin’ on ya d-ck, save the drama
got my eye on ya wife, and ya baby-mama
cause you snoozin’ (you know the rules pimp)
ya b-tch is choosin’ (you ’bout to lose them)
yellin’, “get’cho -ss in this car b-tch!”
but i’m much too fast with this hard d-ck
short dogg took ya broad, it just can’t be
your b-tch sucked me n’ f-cked me n’ then she thanked me
i know the whole story, you ain’t servin’ it right
i’ll probly slide by, and put some work in her night

(hook, too $hort)
you couldn’t be a better player than me
even if you roll in luxury
i know you smoke c0ke and that top notch freak
you never could be a better player than me
biatch!

(verse 3, too $hort)
now i don’t really care
if you f-cked the richest b-tch on earth
you could be a gigolo and couldn’t get more work
cause i’m a player from way back
taught by the best, no way you could say
that i was short like the rest
of y’all half steppin’, lil’ d-ck wanna-be big-wheeler’s
got a bad case of the syphilis
in the studio, you’re make-believer’s
in real life, you’re more like, they can’t foresay this
you rushin’ to the scene, savin’ ho’s
every time you come across them, crazy folks
you cuff ’em, hurry up and get ’em to safety
but sooner or later, the b-tch gotta face me
cause i put the game down from the start
and you ain’t nothin’ but a dumb–ss mark
and do yo thang, and watch me do mine
get the b-tch on the phone
and let’s see who’s lyin’
n-gga

(hook, too $hort)
you never could be a better player than me
even if you roll in luxury
i know you smoke c0ke and that top notch freak
you never could be a better player than me
biatch!

couldn’t be a better player than me
i know you couldn’t be a better player than me
biatch!

couldn’t be a better player than me
even if you did it every day of the week
i know you think you got it like platinum pete
i be f-ckin ho’s every day of the week

you never could be a better player than me
even if you roll in luxury
i know you smoke c0ke and that top notch freak
you never could be a better player than me

(echo to fade)
biatch!

- too hort lyrics

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