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Like a Pimp (feat. Jucy J & DJ Paul of 3-6 Mafia)

Say bitch, I'm thinking of a master plan

And I'm bringing this paper faster than

These other lil' bastards can

So I'm digging in my mind for the bitches I broke

And keep a player paid in full 'cause pimping ain't no jokeYou want to pop that pussy that's a slim ass chance

Put the paper in the panties when you get that dance

This C O D nigga, so you can keep your nuh plastic cards

No checks, no money orders, Visas or Master CardsOriginal old school rock balling rappers

Bitches still say we high side call us sky cappers

But why slap us when you think a nigga down on his luck

You try and flag us when you see us coming down in a buckNow, what the fuck part of the game taught y'all that bitch play?

See, we makes a bitch pay like a bitch weigh

And then a bitch stay wouldn't sit still, fuck how this shit feel

This ain't studio pimpin', this shit real pimpin'I got them bitches popping pussy getting buck

And you know that we couldn't give a fuck

I got them bitches on the corner selling cock

And the game that we go don't stopI got them thug ass niggaz with the syrup

And you know that we always blowing herb

And in the club, man, you know we stay strapped

And bitch, you know that it ain't about this rapTo many niggaz out here buying hoes a meal

Nigga that ain't the way a bitch supposed to feel

I close the deal from the front door

Fuck me right and suck me tight

And you just might hit the blunt hoeI don't stunt and blow smoke up your ass, baby

But don't be acting all saditty with class baby

You with a nigga such as my self it'll cost you

So pay before a nigga fuck around and be the tosserSweet Jones, Gripping Grain

With all that shit you talk ain't got no bezatine chain

And most of y'all niggaz ain't nothing but tricks

But we sipping lean and breaking bricksPopping pills, work the wood wheel

Fuck where you're from and fuck how you feel

If you want to go to war, I'll take you to war

I got an AK 47 and a tek in the carI got them bitches popping pussy getting buck

And you know that we couldn't give a fuck

I got them bitches on the corner selling cock

And the game that I got don't stopI got them thug ass niggaz with the syrup

And you know that we always blowing herb

And in the club, man, you know we stay strapped

And bitch, you know that it ain't about this rapBitch, niggaz getting hit in the front

I give a fuck, bitch, you can hit the blunt

And everyday young boys that's paid

Lay it down when we chopping on the bladesI'm always trying to put in work, niggaz wanna do my dirt

Balling down on Beale Street, sipping on a pint of syrup

Chopping up the chronic weed, picking all the fucking seeds

Trying to slow my roll, in my trunk, I got them fucking keysAlways riding Chevy things, shining on them twanky things

Kids, I'm a role model, police, I'm a dope man

Can't forget to check my traps, got me cheese a player slap

People say, that pimping dead, never has it left my mouthOptimos a fifth of crown, red eyes with a frown

Niggaz with them gold teeth, fast talking on the town

Some of us are under cover, make your baby mama love us

Knot in my right pocket, left pocket got them rubbersRight hand Rolex watch, stuffed shirt plastic glock

Back pocket Chevy keys, ready for the brain wash

I'ma go pimp a bitch, I'ma like wicked witch

Always got to watch your friends, backstabbers 'cause a snitchNow see, let me blow your mind the real business in the wind

The main thing fucking up these hoes is their fucking friends

You remember back in day it was niggaz pimping hoes

Take a look around now it be hoes pimping hoesWhat the business, what the deal, man, these hoes got me fucked

Make me walk up in the strip and kind of get like buck

Oh, you fucking with my cheese, oh, you fucking with my paper

Bitch, you got to pay the piper even if you straight rape herI ain't mad about my girl licking pussy with a girl

'Cause she got to get it done but that thing ain't my world

Bitch, I'll tell you what your job and your job nonstop

I need the spectacles, testicles, wallet and watchI need the Coke keys, door keys, low keys, rover keys

On knees and Bentley's, Mozzarella cheese

Now nigga, now you talking hoes get to walking

And I ain't trying to hear that bullshit, bitch, walkI got them bitches popping pussy getting buck

And you know that we couldn't give a fuck

I got them bitches on the corner selling cock

And the game that I got, don't stopI got them thug ass niggaz with the syrup

And you know that we always blowing herb

And in the club, man, you know we stay strapped

And bitch, you know that it ain't about this rapBitch, niggaz, getting hit in the front

I give a fuck, bitch, you can hit the blunt

And everyday young boys that's paid

Lay it down when we chopping on the bladesHold up

Enjoy the lyrics !!!