Player Prophecies Lyrics

Spilled Courvoisier on my Cartier

She smelled Jimmy Choo she gon choose today

Baby I'm a Player do you understand

I can be myself but cant be ya man

Pussy marketable it should cost bands

Pay Uncle Mack fuck Uncle Sam

I'm five star Rob Van Dam

I'm with her shiiit and we downtown

Still tippin on foe foes

Still pimpin on yo hoes

Slanging pussy out the Volvo

You can have her back but she dont wanna go

Always had hands I ain't ever been a hoe

Rather fight but i had to pay racks for the poles

Always been a hardhead never did what I'm told

Mack can you do this, no, I need dough

But I stay solo cuz niggas will fold

When shit goes wrong you got bitch in yo soul

When we got jammed up why you telling nem folk

Bitch I'm a chef got melons to poke

So I Daily Grind growing my frontal lobe

Started a biz used to steal from the store

Smoking on runtz looking like Piccolo

Forget being down and just feeling so low

Now what you say as I proceed

I was feeling great as I hit the weed

Shrek colors potent green

Had to show my ass like a noble steed

That metronome like Togepi

It's set in stone like jewelry

Scorpio Season I been a freak

She can't wait but she bout to see

Back shots on the balcony

Over looking the Atlantic sea

Bitch I know it's an Ocean please

Shit yo fucking mouth for I smack ya teeth

We Player Made ya cant fuck with me

Grew up wit the Lords and hung wit the gs

Bro had a plan so we grew some seeds

Had call centers made hoes ring

Surplus for those properties

But they over bid so we stuck to trees

Met cultivators in dispensaries

Look me in the eyes when you speak to me nigga