Imaginary Player lyrics

by

JAY-Z


[Intro]
Yeah, I mean like
I gotta be like the pioneer to this sh*t, you know
I was popping that Cristal
When all y'all n*ggas thought it was beer and sh*t, you know
Wearing that platinum sh*t
When all y'all chicks thought it was silver and sh*t
(Imaginary playmates)
I got, I got to be the pioneer to this sh*t, man
Bottom line (Imaginary playmates)
I'ma show you how to do it, check it

[Verse 1]
Yo, I spit that other sh*t
That's a nice motherf*cker sh*t
That Fed time follow me around, Deep Cover sh*t, n*gga
You beer money, I'm all year money
I'm "Papi, you ain't got to count it, it's all there" money
I never change money 'cause n*ggas got strange money
NARC'd up, marked up, f*cked up in the game money
I got bail money, double-XL money
You got flash now, but time will reveal money
I spit the hottest sh*t, you need it I got it sh*t
That down-South, Master P, Bout It Bout It sh*t
I got blood money, straight up thug money
That brown paper bag under your mattress drug money
You got show dough, little to no dough
Sell a bunch of records and you still owe dough
I got 900 and 96 plus 4 mo' dough
You crazy, you fugazi, I'm loco with dough papo
[Chorus: René & Angela sample]
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates

[Verse 2]
And now you got these young cats acting like they slung caps
All in they dumb raps, talking about how they funds stack
When I see them in the street, I don't see none of that
Damn playboy, where the f*ck is the Hummer at?
Where's all the ice with all the platinum under that?
Those ain't Rolex diamonds, what the f*ck you done to that?
Y'all rapping-ass n*ggas, y'all funny to me
You're selling records being you, but still you wanna be me
I guess for every buck you make it's like a hundred for me
And still you running around thinking you got something on me
But I done did it
And y'all want to take my flow, and run with it
That's cool, I was the first one with it
Origin-al, Jigga's the future, flow digit-al
Still busting a gat when sh*t gets criti-cal
Sit it down, I don't want y'all to get it confused
I rip it down, like I ain't got nothing to lose
(Y'all get it now?)
[Chorus: René & Angela sample]
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates

[Verse 3]
Groupies I leave 'em all f*cked; n*ggas, awe struck
Your single was 99 cents, mines was 4 bucks
Last year, when n*ggas thought it was all up
But this year I've done it again, Jigga! What the f*ck?
n*gga stop whining, Jigga, still shining
n*ggas kept complaining so I copped more diamonds
Rock more Versace, ain't nothing sweet
I still throw t'ree in your body, fleeing the party
Y'all can't go with me, nope, flow with me
Bet 50, not dollars either I brought some dough with me
I flow like the 5 Series, in various areas
And blow holes in your weak n*ggas theories
It's funny how one verse can f*ck up the game
You bought a 4.0 you better get your change
Ain't no platinum in those Cartiers, switch your frames
Ain't no manicurist on board, then switch your plane

[Chorus: René & Angela sample]
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
Imaginary playmates
[Outro]
I mean, like, be truthful, man: how you think you gon' feel, right?
You pull up in your 4.0 with your b*tch
I pull up in the 4.6 with my b*tch with the seat back
Bumping some other sh*t, you know, some other sh*t
You probably hop on my di*k right there, right in front of your b*tch
Ask me some stupid sh*t like
"Yo, yo dog, what’s the difference between a 4.0 and a 4.6?"
Like 30 to 40 grand, c*cksucker, beat it! Haha
Yo, them sh*ts even got leathers?
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