Trick Daddy - I'll Be Your Player [Remix] Lyrics
Yeah Committee remix you can't beat us (who you is fool?) They call me Trick Daddy Dollars (like that) Being that I'm... (x4) Real I feel you need a man in your life child Somebody black baldheaded plus buckwild They call me Trick Daddy Dollars A real woman scholar If a players what you want lil' momma holla Yeah I'ma holla through you looking good So Trick what you wanna do I asked my girls if all the player talk was true They told me yeah girl, hurry up and make your move Now can I be your lover Don't bother asking your friends about my Benz and ends Unless you planning on me staying yeah I get my freak on, plus my back strong No more sad songs for long girl your daddy's home I'll be your player I need a player Someone who's gonna treat me right (If a players what you want lil' momma holla) So Trick you a player Boo I like your game if you want I'm available I'll get you sprung off the way I use my tounge ohhhh I'll get you hot when my lips touch your spot I'll lick you like a lollipop, damn I can hardly stop You make me scream, yell, holla (who you wit'?) Trick Daddy Dollars I turn you on when I touch your chest And you turn me on when you kiss my neck Nothing less than deep penetration Anticipation, lets make it happen, I'm sick of waiting Daddy, you know you possess the key So where you want it Right here on the side of me I'll be your player (chorus) I need a player Someone who's gonna treat me right (they call me Trick Daddy Dollars) I need a player, to hold me tight all through the night (If a player's what you want lil' momma holla See I suduce you wit' your legs up First we bone and get it on, all night long, on and on Then I continue when you draw straw Make your heart be stoning til' you climb the wall You taste so sweet, from your head to your feet It's my treat so baby girl ? Call me Freaky Deaky cause I want to be your servant And while I'm serving, I'll slap you up a serving Half the thugs wouldn't do the things I do I'm on my knees so please just let me taste you Hell, my minds in the gutter, I mean your butter Pink eggs and ham, and you taste just like spam I'll be your player Chorus until fade
