hater players Songtext - Black Star

Artist: Black Star
Album: Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star
Song: Hater Players

[Mos Def]
People keep askin me, where's the underground?
There's mad talented cats underground with that raw shit
Ya know what'm sayin?
Bringin the raw skills.
Ya know what I'm sayin? Really...

To me, it's a Small Wonder, like Vicki, why I'm picky
These niggas suck like hickies
and still get the shit they slip in like Mickies
I'm sick of the hater-players, bring on the regulators
With the flavors like a far mteam fucking with the majors
Like a river how I run through it, I do it so cold
Freezin up your bodily fluids, your style is old
You runnin your mouth, but don't really know what you be talkin about
You should retire, get that complimentary watch, be out!
Yo, with the quickness, so swift you miss this lyrical fitness
Now get this, these emcees wanna test me like litmus, bear witness
I'm like shot clocks, interstate cops, and blood clots
My point is, your flow can stop!
By all means, you need more practice, take that ass home
Everybody lookin at you, fish tanks and drome
In full effect, I stay catchin lyrical rep
And keep it blacker than the back of your neck
What you expect, that shit's hollerin
Cause we developin the followin
gettin played like ?stones? off tapes and ?dollar vans?
I'll reverse you, universal, your demise is first
Before your rise gets worse
You need a night nurse like Gregory, beggin me
Stop it hurts, what you say to me?
Like thats supposed to mean something
You don't wanna scene, frontin in the club
Your actin, I don't buy it, I got the Dub

I'm all luminary, despite commentary
Some people say, Mos how you get so?
My sign will make you jump around like calypso
And murmur to yourself like a schizo
There ain't no bottom on the ???

Chorus

[Talib Kweli]
Come on, come on, come on, come on. Here we go. Blackstar, hop on the
Blackstar line. We bout to take y'all home. Ya know what I mean? Here we
go...

We got all markets on lock
From meat to stock
Blackstar, what? throwin like head rock in bars
Men flock to where we are, cause its the place to be
Grab my paint, jump on stage and deface emcees
We sell our souls like Spawn and come for the drone I sit upon
Freestyle or written songs so we can get it on!
Going back and forth, fallin back, all across the track
Passin the mic's like quarterbacks
of course its phat, get off of that!
Reverse psychology got em scared to say when shit is whack
Got fear of being called a hater, imagine that! We ain't havin that
We just passed the star status that your grabbin at
My battle raps blast your ass back to your natural habitat
So floss, cause what it costs ain't worth it to me
Cause I'm the one these Spice Girl emcees Wanna Be
But they can't, ain't no points forever, so why bother?
Cause your girl calls my name out like Claerance Carter, Claerance
Carter, Clarence Carter!?! (I be strokin, thats what I be doin)
Aiyyo, as we rock harder
And always drop the bonified head nodders
Aiyyo, later for the hater-players
Yo-yo, yo-yo, later for these hater-players
Chorus

Blackstar keeps shining

Chorus

Blackstar keeps shining

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