Listen to Int'l Players Anthem (I Choose You) [feat. Three 6 Mafia] by UGK

Int'l Players Anthem (I Choose You) [feat. Three 6 Mafia]

UGK

Hip-Hop/Rap

108,967

Apple Music Note

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Joshua Lopez

Guitar

Bun B

Vocals

DJ Paul

Vocals

Juicy J

Vocals

Pimp C

Vocals

Willie Hutch

Sampled Artist

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Paul Beauregard

Paul Beauregard

Songwriter

Chad Butler

Songwriter

Bernard James Freeman

Bernard James Freeman

Songwriter

Jordan Houston

Songwriter

Antwan Patton

Songwriter

Willie Hutch

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

DJ Paul

Producer

Juicy J

Producer

Brian Stanley

Mixing Engineer

Anthony Palazzole

Anthony Palazzole

Assistant Mixing Engineer

Bun B

Executive Producer

Eddy Schreyer

Mastering Engineer

J. Prince

Executive Producer

Mike Foster

Recording Engineer

Pimp C

Executive Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Hypnotize minds

UGK, Three 6 Mafia

'Nother classic, baby

Put some south in your mouth, goin' down

[Verse 2]

My bitch a choosy lover

Never fuck without a rubber

Never in the sheets, like it on top of the cover

Money on the dresser, drive a Kompressor

Top notch hoes get the most, not the lesser

[Verse 3]

Trash like to fuck with forty dollars in the club

Fuckin' up the game, bitch, it gets no love

She be cross country, giving all that she got

A thousand a pop, I'm pulling Bentleys off the lot

[Verse 4]

I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red

Every time we hit the parking lot we turn head

Some hoes wanna choose but them bitches too scary

Your bitch chose me, you ain't a pimp, you a fairy

[Verse 5]

Oh, oh, I choose you, girl

[Verse 6]

Baby, you been rolling solo, time to get down with the team

The grass is greener on that other side, you know what I mean

I show you shit you never seen, the Seven Wonders of the World

And I can make you the eighth if you wanna be my girl

[Verse 7]

I say my girl, don't mean my woman, that ain't my style

Need a real street stalker to walk a green mile

We piling up the paper on the dining room table

'Cause you able to realize I'm the truth and not a fable

[Verse 8]

We rock the freshest Sable, keep that chiller on the rack

What I look like with some thousand dollar shit up on my back?

I'm a million dollar mack that need a billion dollar bitch

Put my pimping in your life, watch ya daddy get rich

[Verse 9]

Easy as A-B-C, simple as one-two-three

Get down with UGK, Pimp C, B-U-N-B

'Cause what's a ho with no pimp? And what's a pimp with no ho?

Don't be a lame, you know the game and how it goes

We tryna get chose

[Verse 10]

Oh, oh, I choose you, girl

[Verse 11]

Now when they heard who in the club, DJ Paul, bitches chosen up

When they see I'm icy like a slush, then they frozen up

Like my homie, Project Pat, we keep them cups raising up

Snizzle fizz is off in my dollar, gotta nose it up

[Verse 12]

I down drink by the liters, I'm a drinker, ho

Ya swore you doin' it like me? You's a thinker, ho

What you thinkin', bro? Need to get your money way up

UGK and Three 6 Mafia got your girl trained up

[Verse 13]

I'm still trapping in hell, my pockets on swell

The number one D-boy, Mr. Fish-scale

I don't fuck around with snitches who tell

Put holes in your brain, leave bodies to smell

[Verse 14]

I'm out here getting paid, ain't got time for jail

I paid off the judges, the juries, the sheriff

You know it's the Juice-man, never will fail

I'm still sipping syrup, slow motion like snails

[Verse 15]

Oh, oh, I choose you, girl

I, I choose you, baby

Written by: André Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Bernard James Freeman, Chad Butler, Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard, Willie M. Hutchison

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