Junior M.A.F.I.A., The Notorious B.I.G. - Player’s Anthem lyrics

Niggas (Uh, Junior MAFIA) , uh
Bitches (Uh) , ha (Uh) , uh (Blast that shit, son)

Niggas, grab your dick if you love hip-hop
Bitches, rub your titties if
You love Big Poppa
Gotcha open off the words I say because
This type of shit, it happens every day
(Check it out, uh)

Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit?
What are you a idiot? Listen to
The lyrics I spit like M1's
Got mad guns up in the cabin
'Cause Cease ain't the one for
The dibbin' and dabbin' shit
I make it happen, you got your ass caught
All you saw was fire from the Honda Passport
Or the MP, what if you see, then I miss ya
I blow up spots like little sisters
Gwaan grit ya teeth


Gwaan bite ya nails to the cuticles
Like Murray
My killings be the most beautiful
Junior MAFIA clique thick like Luke dancers
Niggas grab your gats
Bitches take a glance at the little one
Pullin' over in the Land Rover
Playin' Big Willie style with the chauffeur
You know what I mean?
Stack the green, read all between the lines
A nigga act up
Makes the bastard hard to find

Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
Bitches, rub your titties if
You love Big Poppa
Gotcha open off the words I say because
This type of shit, it happens every day
Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
Bitches, rub your titties if
You love Big Poppa
Gotcha open off the words I say because
This type of shit, it happens every day

How ya livin' Biggie Smalls?
I'm surrounded by criminals
Heavy rollers, even the sheisty individuals
Smokin' skunk and mad Phillies
Beatin' down Billy Badasses
Cracks and stacks in masses
If robbery's a class, bet I pass it
Shit get drastic, I'm buryin' you bastards
Big Poppa never softenin'
Take you to the church
Rob the preacher for the offerin'
Leave the fucker coughin' up blood and
His pockets like rabbit ears
Covet the wife, Kleenex for the kid's tears
Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches
She whippin' my ride, countin' my ones
Thinkin' I'm richest
Just the way players play, all day, every day
I don't know what else to say
I've been robbin' niggas since Run and
Them was singin' "Here We Go"
Snatchin' ropes at the Roxy, homeboy
You didn't know?
My flow, detrimental to your health
Usually roll for self
I have son ridin' shotgun
My mind's my nine, my pen's my MAC-10
My target
All you wack niggas who started rappin'
Junior MAFIA steelo, niggas know the half
Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths
Runnin' up in pretty bitches constantly
The Smalls, bitch
Who the fuck it was supposed to be?

Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
Bitches, rub your titties if
You love Big Poppa
Gotcha open off the words I say because
This type of shit, it happens every day
Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
Bitches, rub your titties if
You love Big Poppa
Gotcha open off the words I say because
This type of shit, it happens every day

I used to pack MACs in Cadillacs
Now I pimp gats in the Ac's
Watch my niggas backs
Nines in the stores, Glocks in the bags
Maxin' mini markets
Gettin' money with the Arabs
No question, confession, yes it's the lyrical
Bitches, squeeze your tit's, niggas
Grab your genitals
Proteins and minerals, exclude subliminals
Big Momma shoots the game to
All you Willies and criminals
I kick the really with my peeps all day
325's roll by with the windows down halfway
D-K-N-Y, oh my, I'm jiggy
It's all about the Smalls and
My fuckin' nigga Biggie
Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme
'Cause they all in line screamin'
"One more time!"
Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club
Straight up