Text: Trick Daddy. I'll Be Your Player (Remix).

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