Negro had the nerve to walk up to me and say “baby doll don’t hate the Player hate the game” Brother don’t you know? Step up and realize YOU are the game! The joke of the past 2 Centuries. Your game ain’t new, It’s older than my grannie’s hamhock recipe. I heard it all before seen it time and time again learn, realize, check your self. Your game is played out triflin and un-original The gold tooth the leisure suit The pimp daddy wanna be feather in your frayed edge hat I can’t do much else but laugh I can’t feel angry, only pity at the sorry excuse you turned out to be. No my friend without the clue I don’t hate the Player or his game I can’t even say that I hate you. What I mind most of all is the waste of the potential, all the man you could have been. The promise of the future that might have been. All the things you can not see behind those dark Shaft sunglasses that even Richard Roundtree wouldn’t have been caught wearing in 1973. I think of you and your game ................................................and cry.