[Intro]
Let's get it hype nigga
Let's get it crump
Yeah yeah yeah

[Eightball]
Pass me them swisher sweets let's get it crump
If a nigga disrespect me I'mma prove my shit and dump
Blast ryhmes like I pump turn your belly to jelly
Veteran MC I don't think you rookies is ready
Three hundred and fifty pounds of pressure to deal wit
I run with suave always packin' something to kill with
Feel this bitch, when I get rich I'mma still hustle
Go down in history, paper taller then Bill Russel
Kilo flows, I got 'em hid in the basement
Choppin boys up, on some puttin' it in they face shit
Eight Ball, F-a-t M-a-see-k, known for layin' it down
And doin' shit the playa way
Callabo's of the dough ain't no secret
Space-age pimpin' means I don't do free shit
Time waits for no one, it ain't gon' wait for me
Yours truly, signed Eightball and MJG

[Chorus]
All my hard core niggas, what you want to do?
My real thug-ass niggas, what you want to do?
All my money making bitches if you ride with me
I'mma pimp 'till I die and I'mma ride for free
Now where them real bitches at
Where them real bitches at
Where they at, where they at, where they at, huh?
And where my buck niggas at
Where my buck niggas at
Where they at, where they at, where they at, come on

[Foxy Brown]
I ain't new to this
Damn nice bitch that's true to this
Money ain't never been a thing to me
Always stack my dough, holla back (uh)
Ass fat, thighs thick, titties perfect
Inhale the cheese from here to Tel Aviv
Y'all know it, shit I don't bluff
And no dough? I don't fuck 'em
Fuck I'mma fake for?
Make mine's, someone take yours
Cause I'm no nigga like love be 'fore
Make bitch scream like, gimme some more
If a nigga broke, what'd you fuck him for?
Waste of time
It's like we playette minds
don't stop, get it get it
Bitches, take it from a real motherfuckin' pro
Y'all get that dough, we don't trust these niggas
They gon' pimp if you let them
From NY to the dirty south
And them bitches' dime tight
I got my mind right
And my ice got the shine right
And if it don't rhyme, bitches
When them lights hit the wrist
You won't be sticking shit
You be lickin' this

[Chorus]

[MJG]
I'm the pimp motherfucker, baby
Ice cold, stories so high
I built the whole village twice
So tight fold crease right on the President's nose
Pimp clothes, drinkin straight Henney and Buckstrum
Touch toed, hoes take the center fold pose
Break a treat, make 'em pay to enter those
Pros, slam those
Game tied tight like bows, we never close
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four
Hand chose bithces a la mode, gettin' sold
Bust a load, the killer ass scorin' it, gettin' blowed
Keep it froze, took up with a tougher wild bow
Stick of gold, somethin' from the school of the old
Forever flows, I take it down as deep as it can go
Burn rolls, braids tight, blazed afros
We're pushin' hoes
Tits get erect, lactose, pay the toll
MJG is in control

[Chorus]

[Juvenile]
You dis', and you know bars where you can slow down
Up in the morning and the code is 'bout to go down
There's no repose now, better explode round
Them jackets be on the lose until the dope is found
Juvenile's my name, bitch
I represent it to the end, the same shit
Niggers don't be wearin suits on theses blocks
All you see is digibles and Reeboks
I dealin' head to the bag, but lets grab two
Willin' to bust a nigga hands if he had to
You could feel him sayin' my nigger can use a hot boy
Plug out, Blug eye Blug her
Better get up off the blackboard
Corporate at times, but your mommy a bounce boy
Cash wasn't a million, never hit the spot boy
You gon' cry son, who sold you the cows, huh?
He in a cell block now 'cause you too high now

[Chorus]

[MJG]
Where the real ones at? Be-atch...
Oh, you know how we feel
About all you 'want to be' ass ghetto super stars
Want to be like 'me ass" niggas
Tryin' to be like Foxy Brown bitches
I give a fuck about your intermureal status, mothafucka
You ain't nobody
We been doing this, been doin' this shit
We go way back with this baby
Talkin' about this real shit on the mutha fuckin' microphone
Pimps and hoes and gettin' money
Tricks and hoes and fuckin'
Muthafuckin' clothes and shit ridin' vogues and shit
Think I'm riding all 20's and shit
Nigga what chu got?
Brand new-assed nigga
You don't know nothin' about this game
Come on

[Chorus repeats until fade]

Writer : LITTLEMORE, NICK/SIMPSON, NARDI/SMITH, KALEENA
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., UNIVERSAL MUSIC MGB SONGS OBO PORK MUSIC