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| Jay Z Miscellaneous Imaginary Player Imaginary Player Yeah I mean like I gotta be like the pioneer to this shit, you know I was popping that Cristal when all y'all niggaz thought it was beer and shit, you know Wearing that platinum shit when all y'all chicks thought it was silver and shit I got to be the pioneer of this shit Bottom line I'm going to show you how to do it Check it Verse One: I spit that other shit That's the nice motherfucker shit Fed time follow me around, deep cover shit nigga You beer money, I'm all year money I'm popping, you ain't got to count it, it's all there money I never change money 'cause niggas got strange money Knocked up, marked up, fucked up in the game money I got bail money, XXL money You got flash now, one time we'll reveal money I spit the hottest shit, you need it I got it shit That down South Master P, Bout It Bout It shit 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 more dough You crazy, you full gazy, and loco with dough papo Chorus: (4x) Imaginary Players Verse Two: And now you got these young cats acting like they slung cats All in they dumb rap, talking about how they funds stack When I see them in the street, I don't see none of that Bad playboy, where the fuck is the hummer at? Where is all the ice with all the platinum under that? Those ain't rolex diamonds, what the fuck you done to that? Y'all rapping-ass niggas, y'all funny to me Selling records, being you but still you want to 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 Original, jiggas the future flow digital Still busting a gat when she gets critical 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 Chorus Verse Three: Groupies I leave them all fucked Niggas - all struck Your single was 99 cents, mines was 4 bucks Last year, when niggas thought it was all up But this year I've done it again, jigga! What the fuck Nigga stop whining, jigga, still shining Niggas 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 niggas theories It's funny how one verse can fuck up the game You bought a 4.0 you better get your change Ain't no platinum in those Cartiers, switch your frame Ain't no manicures on board, then switch your plane Chorus |
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