| Niggaz… bitches…
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| Uhh
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| Chorus: B.I.G.
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| (Niggaz) Grab your dick if you love hip-hop
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| (Bitches) Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
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| Gotcha, open off the words I say because
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| «This type of shit it happens everyday"-→Slick Rick
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| Verse One: Lil’Ceasar
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| Check it out, uhh
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| Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit?
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| What are you a idiot?
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| Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's
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| Got mad guns up in the cabin
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| Cause Cease ain’t the one for the dibbin and dabbin shit
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| I make it happen, you got your ass caught
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| All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport
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| or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya I blow up spots like little sisters
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| G’wan grit ya teeth, g’wan bite ya nails to the cuticles
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| Like Murray, my killings, be the most beautiful
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| Junior M.A.F.I.A. |
| click, thick like Luke dancers
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| Niggaz grab your gats, bitches take a glance at the little one, pullin over in the Land Rover
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| Playin Big Willie style with a chaffeur, yaknahmean?
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| Stack the green, read all between the lines
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| A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find
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| Chorus: repeat 2X
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| Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.
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| (How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) I’m surrounded by criminals
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| Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals
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| Smokin skunk and mad Phillies
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| Beatin down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses
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| If robbery’s a class, bet I pass it Shit get drastic, I’m buryin ya bastards
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| Big Poppa never softenin
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| Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin
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| Leave the fucker coughin up blood, and his pockets like rabbit ears
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| Covered the wife, kleenex for the kid’s tears
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| Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches
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| She whippin my ride, countin my one’s, thinkin I’m richest
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| Just the way players play, all day everyday
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| I don’t know what else to say
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| I’ve been robbin niggaz since Run and them was singin 'Here We Go'
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| Snatchin ropes at the Roxie homeboy you didn’t know
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| my flow, detrimental to your health
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| Usually roll for self, I have son ridin shotgun
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| My mind’s my nine, my pen’s my Mac-10
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| My target, all you wack niggaz who started rappin
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| Junior M.A.F.I.A. |
| steelo, niggaz know the half
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| Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths
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| Runnin up in pretty bitches constantly
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| The Smalls bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be?
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| Chorus: repeat 2X
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| Verse Three: Lil’Kim
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| I used to pack Macs in Cadillacs
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| Now I pimp gats in the Ac’s, watch my niggaz backs
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| Nines in the stores, glocks in the bags
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| Maxin mini-markets, gettin money with the Arabs
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| No question, confession, yes it’s the lyrical
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| Bitches squeeze your tits, niggaz grab your genitals
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| Proteins and minerals, excluse subliminals
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| Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals
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| I kick the rilli with my peeps all day
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| 325's roll by with the windows down halfway
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| D-K-N-Y, oh my, I’m jiggy
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| It’s all about the Smalls and my fuckin nigga Biggie
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| Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme
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| Cause they all in line screamin one more time
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| Niggaz, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
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| Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Player's Anthem , by - Junior M.A.F.I.A.. Song from the album The Best of JUNIOR M.A.F.I.A., in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп