Letra de 'Players Ball' de OutKast

Man let me hit that
You gon' pass that?
Man, the scene was so thick
Lowriders, '77 Sevilles, El Dogs
Nothing but them 'Lacs
All the players, all the hustlers
I'm talking bout a black man heaven here, nahmsayin, yeah

It's beginning to look a lot like, what?
Follow my every step
Take notes on how I crept
I's bout to go in depth
This is the way I creep my season, here's my ghetto rep
I kept, to say the least no, no it can't cease
So I begin to piece my two and two together
Gots no snowy weather, have to find something to do better, bet
I said subtract, so shut up that, nonsense about some silent night
I gots it crunk, if it ain't real, ain't right
I'm like no matter what the season
Forever chill with Smith
I sip my fifth, I chill with Wesson, got my reasons
So tell me what did you expect
You thought I'd break my neck, to help y'all deck the halls
Oh naw, I got other means of celebrating
I'm getting blizzard at HoJo, I got that hoochie waiting
I made it through another year can't ask for nothing much more
It's OutKast for the books I thought you knew so now you know, let's go

All the players came from far and wide
Wearing afros and braids, kicking them gangsta rides
Now I'm here to tell you there's a better day
When the player's ball is happening, all day ery'day

Halle-lu-jah, halle-lu-jah
Y'know I do some things more different than I used to
'Cause I'm a player, doing what the players do
The package store was closed, okay my day is ruined
This is ridiculous, I'm getting serious, I'm getting curious
'Cause the house is smelling stank, the chitlins old as bitches
I made no wishes cause I'm mobbing folk niggas in the back
Getting tipsy off the nog and high as hell off the contact smoke
They having a smoke out in my back seat
They passing herb rewinding verses 'cause it's in the air
I hit the parks, I hit the cuts, I'm hitting switches
'Cause I'm switching from side to side looking for hoes and snitches
I'm wide open on the freeway, my pager broke my vibe
'Cause a junkie is a junkie three-sixty-five
It's just another day of work to me the spirit just ain't in me
Grab my pistol and my ounce see what them junkies gotta give me
'Cause it's like that, yeah
Forever pimpin', never slippin', that's how it is

All the players came from far and wide
Wearing afros and braids, kicking them gangsta rides
Now I'm here to tell you there's a better day
When the player's ball is happening, all day ery'day

Ain't no chimneys in the ghetto so I won't be hanging my socks on no chimney
I'm fit as a tick, fix me a plate, I got the remedy
Some greens and that ham, not
Don't need no ham hocks, don't play me like I'm smoking rocks
I got the munchies, we got the Mary Jane in the Dungeon
Just to let you niggas know in '93, that's how we coming
So ho ho hoes, check my king-ass 'fro
The gin and juice has got me tipsy so, um

It goes, give me ten, and I'll serve you then, now we bend
The corner in my Cadillac
My heart does not go pitty-pat for no rat
I'm leaning back, my elbow's out the window
Coke, rum and indo fills my body, where's the party?
We roll deep, we dip to Underground, see a lot of hoes around
I spit my game while waiting countdown
A five, fo', a three, two, here comes the one
A new year has begun, P-Funk, spark another one

All the players came from far and wide
Wearing afros and braids, kicking them gangsta rides
Now I'm here to tell you there's a better day
When the player's ball is happening, all day ery'day

Here's a little something for the players out there hustling
Getting down for theirs
From East Point, College Park, Decatur, Da 'Briar
You know, niggas worldwide
Down, for theirs

All the players came from far and wide
Wearing afros and braids, kicking them gangsta rides
Now I'm here to tell you there's a better day
When the player's ball is happening, all day ery'day