Couldn’t be a Better Player lyrics

by

Too $hort


[Intro: Too $hort & East Side Boyz]
n*gga, what? n*gga, what? n*gga, what?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: East Side Boyz]
Us n*ggas from the south be representing sh*t
And trying to keep these player haters off our di*ks
Never f*cking with them loud-ass clicks and crews
And bucking down busters that be acting rude
'Cause these n*ggas and these hoes on some other sh*t
They like to talk behind your back, but in your face, they ride yo' di*k
That's why I stay tight with my crew
So what you gon' do when we come for you?

[Chorus]
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)

[Post-Chorus: East Side Boyz]
Represent yo' click, motherf*cker (Motherf*cker)
And if you don't, then you must be a buster (You a buster)
Represent yo' click, motherf*cker (Motherf*cker)
And if you don't, then you must be a buster (You a buster)
Now put your middle finger up, motherf*cker (Motherf*cker)
Now put your middle finger up, motherf*cker (Motherf*cker)
Now drop them bows on them motherf*cking suckers (On them suckers)
Now drop them bows on them motherf*cking suckers (On them suckers)
Now get crunk, motherf*cker, get crunk (Get crunk)
Now get crunk, motherf*cker, get crunk (Get crunk)
Now get drunk, motherf*cker, get drunk (Get drunk)
Now get drunk, motherf*cker, get drunk (Get drunk)
Now tell them hoes (What?) to drop they clothes (What?)
And cut some for the motherf*cking D-Lo
Now tell them hoes (What?) to drop they clothes (What?)
And cut some for the motherf*cking D-Lo
[Chorus]
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What? Short, short)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What Short, short)

[Verse 2: Too $hort]
Now I don't give a f*ck about yo' Benz or yo' light-skinned b*tch
I give a f*ck who you tell you don't like this sh*t
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 sh*t 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
b*tch-ass n*gga, I'm tryna hit me a lick
She better pay me right now, she wanna get some di*k
I told you, got the game from the old n*ggas
Everytime I park my car, come the gold diggers
With the easy pus*y sign on display
If you lookin' for some money, don't come this way
[Refrain: Too $hort]
You couldn't be a better player than me
Even if you f*cked every day of the week
I know you think you got it like that, but peep
I be f*cking hoes everyday of the week, b*tch

[Chorus]
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What? Short, short)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What Short, short)

[Verse 3: Too $hort]
Now I don't give a f*ck about your phone book and all your pictures
Chillin' at the club with all your b*tches
Lying on your di*k, save the drama
Got my eye on your b*tch and your baby mama
'Cause you snoozing, you know the rules, pimp
Your b*tch is choosing, you 'bout to lose them
Yelling, "Get yo' ass in the car, b*tch"
But I'm much too fast with this hard di*k
Short dog took your broad, it just can't be
Your b*tch suck me and f*ck 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
[Refrain: Too $hort]
You couldn't be a better player than me
Even if you f*cked everyday of the week
I know you think you got it like that, but peep
I be f*cking 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, b*tch

[Chorus]
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What?)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What)
What the f*ck you gon' do, n*gga? What the- (What? What's up? What? What? Short, short)
What the f*ck you gon' do? What you gon' do (What? What's up? What? What Short, short)

[Verse 4: East Side Boyz]
Now what's up, f*ck n*gga? What's up? (What's up?)
Now what's up, f*ck n*gga? What's up? (What's up?)
You gon' buck, f*ck n*gga, then buck (Then buck)
You gon' buck, f*ck n*gga, 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 f*cked (You f*cked)
Ain't got no pistol on your ass, so you f*cked (You f*cked)
You wanna run like a motherf*cking b*tch (Like a b*tch)
You shouldn't have been no motherf*cking snitch (You a snitch)
You wanna run like a motherf*cking b*tch (Like a b*tch)
You shouldn't have been no motherf*cking snitch (You a snitch)
My n*gga trigger finger startin' to itch (Startin' to itch)
My n*gga trigger finger startin' to itch (Startin' to itch)
You shouldn't have been no motherf*cking b*tch (You a b*tch)
You shouldn't have been no motherf*cking b*tch (You a b*tch)

[Verse 5: Too $hort]
Now I don't give a f*ck if you f*ck the richest b*tch 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
I was short like the rest of y'all half-stepping little di*ks 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 b*tch 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 b*tch on the phone and let's see who lyin', n*gga

[Outro]
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