Couldn't Be A Better Playa - Lil Jon & the Eastside Boyz Feat. T

Nigga, what? Nigga, what? Nigga, what?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Us niggas from the south be representing shit
And tryna keep these player haters off our dicks
Never fucking with them loud-ass clicks and crews
And bucking down busters that be acting rude
'Cause these niggas and these hoes on some other shit
They like to talk behind your back, but in your face, they ride yo' dick
That's why I stay tight with my crew
So what you gon' do when we come for you?

What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?

Represent yo' click, motherfucker (motherfucker)
And if you don't, then you must be a buster (you a buster)
Represent yo' click, motherfucker (motherfucker)
And if you don't, then you must be a buster (you a buster)
Now put your middle finger up, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Now put your middle finger up, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Now drop them bows on them motherfucking suckers (on them suckers)
Now drop them bows on them motherfucking suckers (on them suckers)

Now get crunk, motherfucker, get crunk (get crunk)
Now get crunk, motherfucker, get crunk (get crunk)
Now get drunk, motherfucker, get drunk (get drunk)
Now get drunk, motherfucker, get drunk (get drunk)
Now tell them hoes (what?) To drop they clothes (what?)
And cut some for the motherfucking D-Lo
Now tell them hoes (what?) To drop they clothes (what?)
And cut some for the motherfucking D-Lo

What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the- ($hort, $hort, $hort, $hort)
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?

Now I don't give a fuck about yo' Benz or yo' light-skinned bitch
I give a fuck who you tell you don't like this shit
The fact still stand you got one girlfriend
And I feel like the whole world's pimp
I can't be like you, always acting fake
I can tell you how much a real mack can make
A million dollars ain't shit to spend
I get some new hoes and get it again

So don't tell me whatchu wish for
You wanna be kept by a rich ho
Bitch-ass nigga, I'm tryna hit me a lick
She better pay me right now, she wanna get some dick
I told you, got the game from the old niggas
Everytime I park my car, come the gold diggers
With the easy pussy sign on display
If you lookin' for some money, don't come this way

You couldn't be a better player than me
Even if you fucked every day of the week
I know you think you got it like that, but peep
I be fucking hoes every day of the week, biatch

What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?

Now I don't give a fuck about your phonebook and all your pictures
Chillin' at the club with all your bitches
Lying on your dick, save the drama
Got my eye on your bitch and your baby mama
'Cause you snoozing, you know the rules, pimp
Your bitch is choosing, you 'bout to lose them
Yelling, "Get yo' ass in the car, bitch"
But I'm much too fast with this hard dick
Short dog took your broad, it just can't be
Your bitch suck me and fuck me, than she thank me
I know the whole story, you ain't servin' it right
I'll probably stop by and put some work in tonight

You couldn't be a better player than me
Even if you fucked every day of the week
I know you think you got it like that, but peep
I be fucking hoes every day of the week
I know you couldn't be a better player than me
Even if you rode in luxury
I know you smoke colting that top-notch freak
You never could be a better player than me, biatch

What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?
What the fuck you gon' do, nigga? What the-
What the fuck you gon' do? What you gon' do?

Now what's up, fuck nigga? What's up? (What's up?)
Now what's up, fuck nigga? What's up? (What's up?)
You gon' buck, fuck nigga, then buck (then buck)
You gon' buck, fuck nigga, then buck (then buck)
Your boys done left you, now you stuck (now you stuck)
Your boys done left you, now you stuck (now you stuck)
Ain't got no pistol on your ass, so you fucked (you fucked)
Ain't got no pistol on your ass, so you fucked (you fucked)

You wanna run like a motherfucking bitch (like a bitch)
You shouldn't have been no motherfucking snitch (you a snitch)
You wanna run like a motherfucking bitch (like a bitch)
You shouldn't have been no motherfucking snitch (you a snitch)
My nigga trigger finger startin' to itch (startin' to itch)
My nigga trigger finger startin' to itch (startin' to itch)
You shouldn't have been no motherfucking bitch (you a bitch)
You shouldn't have been no motherfucking bitch (you a bitch)

Now I don't give a fuck if you fuck the richest bitch on Earth
You can be a gigolo and couldn't get more work
'Cause I'm a player from way back, taught by the best
No hater can fade me 'cause I was short like the rest of y'all
Half-stepping little dicks wanna be big willies
You got a bad case of the sillies
In the studio, you make believers
In real life, you more like the cape crusaders

Rushing to the scene to save the hoes
Everytime they come across them crazy folks
You cuff 'em, hurry up and get 'em to safety
But sooner or later, the bitch gotta face me
'Cause I put the game down from the start
And you ain't nothing but a dumb-ass mark
Do your thing and watch me do mine
Get the bitch on the phone and let's see who's lyin', nigga

What? What? What's up? What?
What's up? What's up? What's up? What?
What? What? What's up? What?



Credits
Writer(s): James Elbert Phillips, Jonathan H. Smith, Todd Anthony Shaw, Sammie D. Norris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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