Poppa Was A Player Lyrics

from The Lost Tapes

"Poppa Was A Player" is track #1 on the album The Lost Tapes. It was written by Deric Angelettie;nasir Jones;allan Wayne Felder;norman Ray Harris.
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"Poppa Was A Player" is track #1 on the album The Lost Tapes. It was written by Deric Angelettie;nasir Jones;allan Wayne Felder;norman Ray Harris.
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To my nigga
Brought me in this world
That's right nigga

My old dad imported to the family structure
Provide her God, my mom's a queen at university in civaliza
My pops maybe was late but always came home
My moms would put us to bed and she would wait on

Soon as he walked in the door, she barkin'
I turned out the Jonny Carson, jumped out the bed
We grabbed both his legs, me and my brother
Not knowin' the pain he gave my mother

Night after night, fightin', yellin' at each other
My papa played the street all day
Mama was either home, at work
While we played inside the hall way

She sacrifices all she got to feed us
When she was alone she cried by the phone
Peeppin' out the window, heedin'
But still I didn't see it

Mama hid it from us, we was kids younger
Till we got bigger, on to
Bigger things that we knew what the time was
That daddy was leavin' this crib and my mom's love

Poppa was a player, player wasn't Poppa
Poppa loved the ladies, never got enough of
Pretty brown round, runnin' round town
Don't tell your mother, what's goin' down

Poppa was a player, player wasn't Poppa
Poppa loved the ladies, never got enough of
Pretty brown round, runnin' round town
Don't tell your mother, what's goin' down

So many kids I knew, never knew who Pap was
That's why I show my pop love
He was still around when I fucked up
He could have left, my moms pregnant shock to death but stayed

Watch me crawl till I took my first step to the first grade
To my first fist fight, right behind me he would stand
No matter how big or tall, he made me fight you like a man
Throw dirt in your eye, swing my right scoop your ass and slam

He watched me so I wouldn't get jumped by Shorty's fam
Roaches and weed all over my crib him and me moms relaxin'
Next thing you know he packin' so then I asked him
What's this white shit on that plate and you're facin'?

Papa why you butt ass from the waist
And who's this lady I'm facin'
Dark skin you're not my mommy
He grabbed me up to run some smooth words by me

Promise things that he would buy me
If I kept my mouth close and don't tell Mommy
He said one day I'll understand little me
Was in you to side me

Poppa was a player, player wasn't Poppa
Poppa loved the ladies, never got enough of
Pretty brown round, runnin' round town
Don't tell your mother what's goin' down

Poppa was a player, player wasn't Poppa
Poppa loved the ladies, never got enough of
Pretty brown round, runnin' round town
Don't tell your mother what's goin' down

Pop's told me hold my own, Pop's told me value home
Could I help it Poppa was a Rolling Stone
Who loved the pretty brown round
Out of town bound

Jumping in his jazz Benz he tourin'
At home I play his latest recordin's
And it's strange how, I do my thing now
I'm in the game now and heard of it his brain pow

To pull strings and gain power from weed habits are same now
No white lines to trumpets to tight rhymes
And beats that be pumpin'
Before he left he taught me somethin'

A child's young years the most important time to be there
That's why he stayed till we grew up, respect is still here
I'm older now see what havin' a father's about
One day they can be in your life, next day they be out

It's not because of you, you know the deal
Him and your moms feel
If they stay together then someone will get killed
I love you still, always will 'cause that's my nigga

Although you felt you was wrong
I still feel you kid
Life goes on

Songwriters
Deric Angelettie;Nasir Jones;Allan Wayne Felder;Norman Ray Harris

Published by
STONE DIAMOND MUSIC CORPORATION;DERIC ANGELETTIE MUSIC

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