Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Thomas Leonard Brame, Jr
Thomas Leonard Brame, Jr
Songwriter
Jerome Simmons
Jerome Simmons
Songwriter

Lyrics

Oowee
Yessuh
Wavy
J Dolla
PK
And I'm here to say y'all **** ain't playa in the slightest fa' real my nigg
What the fuck y'all got goin' on
The way y'all got the game runnin' ain't shit
Y'all can talk to women all y'all want
A homeless man can take a bitch home with the right game
Listen to what I'm sayin'
Ayy
Real Ohio Player, Cincinnati wassup
How dare you shake my hand and yo finger nails ain't cut
Are you proud of yo'self? Do you take pride in this
****, up yo standards, why you settlin'
Cleanliness is next to Godliness, I know ya heard
Goin' out as anything less than is absurd
Line up keeps the fro in shape, these naps show uniformity
Witch hazel and toner keeps them ingrowns from forming
Organic body butter, gotta moisturize the skin
Know the money comin' when ya right palm itch
In a new caliber, my lifestyle had to switch
I take care of myself, don't mistake me for no bitch
Out here makin' dreams come true everyday
Speak it to existence but you gotta pave the way
Let the people followin' know you got it handled
Play the game well even when you got it scrambled
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
I coulda wrote a book about this
Matter fact, I might
They be choosin' to choose a ****
I'm talkin' 'bout on sight
We only met one night
But you know it be the aura, we pouring up
Scores up, sure enough
I ain't gotta try hard
You know he a Mississippi ****, look at the car
Nothin' sweet but the Swishers, ****, light up the 'gar
If you coughin' fo' we smoke this, six feet apart
What part do you don't get? I am A God
Hardbody, I'm affiliated, check out the squad
If you simpin', I apologize, we make it hard
Cause it's almost evident, check out the bars
Hall of Fame, I'm a resident, I played my part
Flow tighter than it's ever been, we bout to ball
Flow tighter than it's ever been, we bout to ball
Baby lemme see yo measurements
Do it big, we ain't settling
I got da juice, got da melanin
Pinky ring like the 70's
Big Mac'n, clockin' hella cheese
Short coming, tell a bitch, please
Gotta show her "You don't know me"
Can't be fuckin' up the proceeds, baby shut the door, please listen
I'ma tell ya like this, I run a real tight shift
If you waiting or you late, I don't need no lip
It's a better opportunity presenting itself
I don't need no help, shit, I need mo' chips
You can pack that bag, you can clear that shelf
I'ma be downstairs in a stretched out whip
With the windows rolled down and a half lit spliff
So if yeen tryna hurry up, you finna get left
Yuh
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
This that real player shit
Real alligator shit
Snappin' on yo' bitch
Written by: Jerome Simmons, Thomas Leonard Brame, Jr
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