Lyrics:
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Mix a lot like (Uh)
Got them praying, got them on they knees
Where's they savior
You know I'm never lazy
And you know you ain't no player
But I'm
Chill 'cause we don't mix wit' why'all uncle Tomers
We rock those real black leather bombers
For real, Park Hill not Beverly Hills
Ya'll better be
like (silk)
Can I talk my shit, baby? (speak to me)
I go by many names (oh)
Kojey Acholades
Pablo Eskojey
Houdini Kojini
Luther Vankojey
And Sir
Sound check
Go so before I start dey burst
Hope say you dey buy my song?
Cause if na few dey get am
Then that one no be love
It takes a whole lot
round in a rental
Pop was a playa
My momma worked a graveyard
Codeine Xanax don't mix too well for basketball players
I'm sluggish and I'm muggin'
I swear
Whodini disappeared and Doug E. Fresh went stale
And I think Sir Mix-A-Lot got into some bad ale
The Fat Boys broke up and then one of 'em died
And when I
A lot of souls that are lost
So many niggas put on a cross, half them was crossed by the ones that was closest, only real niggas multiple like
insidious or stand out represent your insignia
But whatever choice you pick there's insomnia
He's a naughty nerd he don't have a lot of friends
He's so uncool
and see My reflection
And I do not drink so if u mix light with dark then Im thinking complexion
I bump on a chick young Player like Usher but next week
gonna try to doubt me like he black but he
Too short to be a great NBA player, So I'm st-st-stutterin' like Faker
Drop the mix-tape for the bread, baker
I know you coasting mix emotions
How C-Notes keep flooding
Drop sauce by accident
Imagine what I'll do on purpose
I'll hit my mark if spark in dark
a j
Put on some synth wave
Mix sum for the hoes to hoe to
Now they flagging me down
They must be from P-Town
I can't fade the tricks
With fingerwaves
the body and I can't control it
Kids had a toys I played Mahjong
15 I jumped over the fence and never spotted by patrol
My decision was to pop Petroleum's,
used to be a player but now I stay on ball
Rollin ink on pages and spayin that paint on walls
I keep the grind until I'm feeble never wait on stall
left and right chilling with tha guys
Lucked in bro's for life
Bless us Jesus Christ
Lots of cars we drive
Option rich or die
Gods love by my side
Surely
I Don’t know when it happened/ Started dodging the spotlight/Realized me and alot of niggas are not alike/Arrogant but that’s out of spite/Slaps is
treat the game good
Come with lots of flavors
Mix it up like I'm shuffling the players
Still more a challenge than I'm letting you know tho
I love it when
give me cabeza and lots of that paper
Don’t ask me for favors
Just serve me like waiters
Cause Bitch I’m a player
This is what we do, get high, get
did that, my respects to you I'm still praying for some relax.
In hard times ain't a lot funny 'cause people doing anything trying to get some money.
the cartridge
Darkman, by the Bee can, he can
Can we, can, I can.. Yeah!
Don't worry, don't worry, strawberry
Mint-pep', rum and raisin 'cause he ate a plate
I'm a player (Ritch)
There's some lil' niggas I
Don't fuck with, better say them a prayer
(Grrah)
Ooh, I might pull up with your bitch
Now you
a lot of gats; holla' back!
[Chorus]
You'll win by all means
Struggle for the cream
Hustle by ways of being
Don't let prophecy end
Don't let
Players keep playin', haters keep hatin'
So much to say, so little time
For the hood that I pray
Haters I spit you die; slow; die; slow
Wash my
Players keep playin', haters keep hatin'
So much to say, so little time
For the hood that I pray
Haters I spit you die; slow; die; slow
Wash my
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