UGK Album

[Pimp C]
Let me see it, hold up...hol' up
Let me see it, uh...hol' up...let me see it
Let me see it...[repeat]
Bend over lemme see it
Let me see it...[repeat]
Bend over lemme see it..

[Bun B]
Now, from the city that I live in
To the city where I'm from
For all the hoes that we done did
And the hoes that we ain't done
From the ones that fuck for shrimp
To the ones that fuck for cum:
If you ain't fittin' ta fuck Pimp
Then you ain't fittin' ta fuck Bun
Got some hoes from the 'hood ('hood)
That live to keep it live (live)
And some office buildin' boppers (boppers)
Workin' 9 to 5 (five)
Ball playa baby mama bitches;
But to me it ain't no thang
Let that monkey hang, baby
Let me see it..

[Chorus x4: Pimp C]
Let me see it, let me see it
Let me see it, let me see it
Let me see it, let me see it
Bend over, let me see it..

[Bun B]
Go'on and let a nigga peak (peak)
And let a nigga poke (poke)
Fuck a nigga from his street (street)
And let a nigga stroke (stroke)
See, I know that you a freak (freak)
From passin' to my folk (folk)
Let me bust it in yo' cheek (cheek)
'Til you muthafuckin' choke (choke)
It's nothin' but a G thang, baby, when you suck it
Steady frontin' in yo' G-strang
Go'on lemme fuck it
See, we know that you a pro (pro)
From shakin' and tuckin'
We some grown muthafuckas
Like ta get naked, buck it
From the back (back), to the front (front)
And to the side (side)
In the 'Lac ('Lac), wit' a blunt (blunt)
Now, where the light (light)?
It's a fact (fact): I've seen it
Lemme get in between it
Now, over bend, once again
Bitches, show it like ya mean it..

[Chorus: x2]

[Pimp C]
Uh...take it off, chick
Bend over, lemme see it
I'm Sweet James Jones
And a trick: I couldn't be it
Got a young brown stallion
And she 20 years old
When she pop it from the back
You see that hairy asshole
From the A-T-L hoes, to the H-town strippers
To the boppers in DeVille
That's suckin' us and pullin' zippers
Now, it how it make ya feel when you see a pimp shine?
Bitch, you wastin' too much time..
Get back up on yo' grind (grind, grind...)

[Chorus: x4]

[Pimp C]
I'm a country-ass nigga;
I fucked wit' yo' wife..
If yo' bitch come around
We put some dick in her life
'Cause them niggas ain't real
Must'a started smokin' rocks
It all fell down
'Cause they was bitin' too much cock
But what goes up, must come down..
While these bitches suckin' dick
And droppin' to the ground..
Every city, every town:
I'm ballin' in the mix
I'm servin' niggas bricks
Keep a bad yellow bitch
On my team...sippin' lean
Ain't no thang of the past;
The '84 Beritz with the slant-back ass
Keepin' me a pro, next to my fo'
Instead of stackin' cheese
He steady screamin' to that ho..
Let me see it

[Pimp C]
Fuck-ass nigga..
Ol' fuck-ass nigga, get yo' mind on yo' money
Hol' up...hol' up (uh)...UGK, bitch
Uh (uh)...representin' that South...that South
And this ain't no muthafuckin'...hip hop records (fuck ass nigga);
These country rap tunes
Hol' up...uh
So, you could separate us from the rest..
Like I tol' you the last time

[Pimp C]
Uh...hol' up (hol' up)
For all them niggas out there ridin' candy
Know what I'm talkin' about?
Uh...Uh...Blowin' on somethin' sweet, (uh)
Goin' down (goin' down)
Hol' up (hol' up)....uh
Check it..

[Pimp C]
Boys kickin' back, layin' in the shade
Ain't nobody trippin' 'cause the money already made
The 90s was for jackin', 2000 for the ballers:
The drop top Jag or the candy red Impala
If you sellin' big cheese, keep pushin', my nigga
Polo horses on my bed - fuck Hilfiger
I'm Pimp C, bitch, in the ghetto I'm a star
I made this for the niggas tryin' ta chop in they cars...cars...cars..

[Chorus: Pimp C]
Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em?
Uh...I wanna chop blades
Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em?
Uh...I wanna chop blades
Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em?
Uh...I wanna chop blades
Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em?
Uh...I wanna chop blades

[Bun B]
Now, when I turn my knock up, and bangin' yo' block up
Without pickin' my Glock up, I'm raisin' my stock up
I got haters on lock-up...boy, they slangin' rock up
And bangin' Makaveli 7, crankin' my 'Pac up
Now, ain't no stoppin' when the tops start droppin'
Hearin' Fat Pat rappin', your hat back capin'
In a black 'Lac mackin' wit' a bop in a fade
Boy, we fat stack packin', steady choppin' on blades...blades...blades..

[Chorus: x4]

[Pimp C]
It's time to hit the slab
Benz sittin' low
I'm puffin' on the 'dro, I got the pistol in the do'
I pulled up in my ride, these hoes lookin' hot
If she get up on my leatha, then her panties gon' drop
I just can't stop...bleedin' my block
Got some prime cut cock, I mean some private-ass stock
They put it in they mouth and never say no
Some nut-suckin' hoes, I mean some dick-suckin' pros
That like to get exposed, and play with they nose
And bend they pussy over, for my nigga, and touch they toes
She do that shit for daddy, but them tricks gotta pay
Just like E-40: Pimpin' in a major way
It's all for the money
She tryin' ta stay paid
She steady breakin' niggas on them shiny-ass thangs
I'm deep up in the street
I'm tryin' to fill my nuts
And later on I'ma try to skeet it on her butt...her butt..

[Chorus: x4]

[Bun B]
Say, nigga, I keeps my rims clean
Shinin through a dim scene
Got yo' bitch wetter than the captain of the swim team
Steppin' out the Caddy, bitch, I'm fresher than Dentyne
Slicker than Crisco, sweeter than Nabisco
From Philly to 'Frisco where the Don be a Sisqo
You better get some Blades if you still ridin' this ho
Boys puttin' Swangers on Benzes, it gotta stop
If you fittin' ta ride foreign, then, nigga, you gotta chop
And Southern niggas still got the nerve to ride D's
I ain't hatin' on Daytons, but it's 2000, nigga please
It's all about the candy paint, it's all about the Vogues
It's all about the slab, baby, it's all about the hoes
Got some cars and some pros: some real and some fraud;
Hated on by a nigga, hated on by a broad
So long as J's sell, and them boppin' hoes slut
I'll be ridin' chromin' blades, steady choppin' hoes up...hoes up...hoes up..

[Chorus: x16]

[Bun B]
Yeah...dedicated to boys choppin' on chromin' thangs
Damn blades, know what I'm sayin'?
Boys choppin' in the ???
Choppin' in that 4th
Choppin' in the 5th
Acres Home
Southside MLK
Southwest ???
Club ???
Boys choppin' on blades in P.A
Up and down Gulf Way
On the Westside
Eastside
Boys choppin' in D-town
In that Oakcliff
In that North Dallas
Boys choppin' all over this damn South
Boys even be choppin' up in New York
Know what I'm sayin'? And that L.A.

[Pimp C talking]
Hold up hold up hold up
Starring at the bar mutherfuckers
Eye pussy-know what I'm talking bout

[Verse 1: Pimp C]
I'm Pimp C bitch so what you need (what you need)
I got some cocain and some California weed (fornia weed)
I fell in love with my chrome-plated bitch (plated bitch)
Break it make it pop the trunk and hit the switch (hit the switch)
Bitches jockin niggas hatin drunk off gin and soko
If he keep on talkin shit I knock his meat out his taco
They think I'm playin cuz I'm in gators and rocks (rocks)
But I pop this mutherfucker till it stop (stop)

{Chorus: Pimp C}
So look at me mutherfucker look at me (look at me)
Look at me mutherfucker look at me (look at me)
When you see me bitch tell me what you see (what you see)
Look at me mutherfucker look at me (look at me)

[Verse 2: Bun B]
Hey... Hey yo I sips the 8
Plus I whips the weight
So while you tripps and hate
I flips your fate
Straight to rip from grapeland
Nigga i use to cook a diffrent scale
Now what we be scorin will make them beams tripple break
Washed out up in the rippas way
Makin you miss the whip we take
And squeezin mine surely
Though I drive horibly
Niggas die for me
And the killers in the sky swarm me
Some fly charmin neiborhood pimps
Take a good glimpse
Smokin on them Cali Hollywood hemps
Look at me

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3: Pimp C]
Now I done scrapped and crawled
Now whip my benz grip my balls
Shit don't pause
Y'all niggas know that I don't fuck with y'all
Fuck the laws undercovers wanna see me stopped
Tap my phone follow my chrome
Another hits the block
But niggas know that Port Author is to small nigga
Thats why the snitches get the pistol to his hilfiger
AK-47 test up and I'm bout to bet
With a loaded automatic if they catch me I'm goin fed
What that bitch said
Pimpin ain't dead
I'm still gettin head
Got your dike bitch in my waterbed
Hit her from behin (hind)
4 or 5 times
Put that dick up in her spine
I done blew your bitch mind
look at me

[Chorus x1]

[Verse 4: Bun B]
It's like monkey see monkey do
So fuck you and your funky crew
You don't bang in the trunk we do
And smokin on skunky to
Now fuck me who?-You gots me fucked up
Strong arm your city threw them up
And leave it bucked up
Maybe if you lucked up
Naw look like you stuck Chuck
Your men of war turned into pussies in menapause
Now how the fuck you gon win a war
Bitch I'm in a car that will make you go deaf
The reason why your hoe left
Makes you wanna go left
Whoa nef catch a slow death
Cuz bitch my 4 fell
Mackin on straight smack a bum
I don't brag but I'm toe taggin um
Now we draggin um
Out the river just like to use
Crack the brews
And keeps about 50 case I wanna fuck a dike or 2
look at me

[Pimp C]
Look at him bitch

Show your tattoos [x16]

(feat. Devin the Dude)

[Pimp C]
You stayin' with that trick, layin' with that trick
All your paper off playin' with that trick
At first, all you want to do is (fuck) with the trick
Years pass by, now you stuck with the trick
Fighting more and more now you're fed up with the trick
But you knew that was a (ho) when you hooked up with the trick
But you trusted the(bitch) 'cause you lust for the (bitch)
(This line was too edited for me to typed out)
Now she around this (motherfucka) pregnant and (shit)
But a child to a (nigga) this seem nothin' but a lick
The next thing you know the [bitch] got you in court
Tryin' to get your paper calling it child support
Takin' half of your (shit) talkin' bout a divorce
If you don't know the game, well here's the crash course
They say "You live with the (bitch) so common law marry."
And the (bitch) got accustomed to the paper she's been having

[Chorus: Devin the Dude singing]
Ain't that a bitch? [Pimp C:] (Ain't that a bitch?)
Ain't that a bitch?, now ask yourself ain't that a bitch?
Ain't that a bitch?

[Bun B]
I got a letter from the government the other day
I open and read it, said "(Fuck) UGK.
We've been watching your success ever since(niggas) dropped
We would've spoke a long time, but we thought you would've flopped
Man, two (niggas) got some (heat), you graduated to mainstream status
From being two broke(niggas) from off the cut, growing up in a town
Where's population 50,000, only 3 high schools, but 8 sets of low-income housing
Look, when you two did 'Too Hard To Swallow' We Thought it was a fluke
When you boys came 'Super Tight' we played it cool hand luke
'Ridin Dirty' went gold with no video we gave a break
But this MTV award nomination (shit) just took the cake
So read this letter real good and take it as a warning
We'll be watching you when you asleep and when you wake up in the morning
The people that you running with and everything you do
Sincerely Yours, Sign, You know (motherfucking) who." Ain't that a bitch?

[Chorus]

[Devin the Dude]
Just when you thought that (ho) was especially for you
You put all your trust in the (bitch) and guess what she do?
Around two in the mornin' that (ho) gone
Then she come with some different clothes on
I guess the (bitch) is so fine that you pay it no mind
You asked her where you been she said "with one of her friends" that (ho) lying
Her (pussy) is a gold mine, well that how she feels
She can get a few thangs for exchange for cheap thrills
The price of (pussy) is turning women into (whores)
And just because they give you some that (pussy) ain't yours
So I don't trip on it, but I'll stab if I can
Then wipe off my weapon, then turn into the traveling man
Like this (bitch) Ruby Tuesday, Friday I'd had to slap the (ho)
The (bitch) got knocked up by Roscoe, and said that I'm the poppa though
In this game they got a name for this chick, who gettin' rich by lickin' (dick)

[Chorus]

(feat. Eightball & MJG)

[Pimp C]
Uh...steady [???] steady [???]
Bitch don't never get no rest

[Pimp C]
Uh...Grippin' the five, I'm a pimp in my mind;
I'm 'bout a bitch got some goals, with a good credit line
So, we pop the plastic..
If she hustle, I ball
Long as she payin' daddy
Ain't no problems at all
So, we break the mall
Now and then we fuck;
And then the bitch gon' be cool
Long as the paper stay up
When she suck on my pipe
Them golds shiny and bright..
Got them ??? hittin' that service every fuckin' night
I'm tal'in' 'bout NBA tricks
NFL tricks
NHL tricks
Payin' my bitch
Grade A pussy and she payin' for my dick;
She on my two-way now
The bitch done hit a fat dick, a fat dick

[Chorus: Bun B]
Now tell me what it's all about in that South:
Big gold grill in yo mouth
With leather inside your car, on yo' back, in yo' house
Get in a nigga's ride, the seat feel like a couch
Big cheese in my pouch
Bitch, if it hurt, say "Ouch"
[Chorus: Pimp C]
Show ya grill if you will, show ya grill if you will
Show ya grill if you will, and you down with the trill
Show ya golds if ya bold, show ya golds if ya bold
Show ya golds if ya bold, and ya diamonds is cold

[Bun B]
See this one right here, my niggas
We gon' dedicate it
To them boys from the ghetto keepin' grills gold-plated
Never hated, never will
We stayin' forever trill;
But boys on the blocks
They keep comin' forever ???
Open face with them designs...shit
Maybe a rack on top and bottom with a couple of diamonds to add some shine
Some niggas got that yella gold
Some niggas got that white
Some niggas got that platinum and bling, bling 'em all night
Shit, I know this boy with one gold, no ice;
I know a nigga who got robbed and bought the same teeth twice;
Muthafuckas with fangs, symbols of gangs or they squad
Some real and some fraud;
Spell the name of they broad
Got boys that praise the Lord
With open face and they cross
Some did all thirty-two, and paid a heavy-ass cost
So, whether you the boss, the runner, or the square
C'mon down to the South;
We got gold grills everywhere

[Chorus]

[MJG]
Gold in the middle, they stay shiny
One on each canine;
You get one free if you not paid on government aid
Go get some shades
You blindin' hoes with 14 carat sun rays
But while they all up in yo grill
They vision blurry for days
Stacked, and ya say, "But couldn't I just stop at one" just like Lays
You left the whole jaw twinkle, to stick a rag in ya face
You buff 'em and shit;
They sparkle like the comets in space
I got two crosses with a diamond, heart, a club, and a spade

[Eightball]
White ice on ???; that's what we be flippin', Ball
3rd Ward to The Mound
You know that we keep it raw
8Ball on my grill, baby, love it when I smile;
Say it make her pussy wet
And make her nipples get all hard
I try to break myself from the same ol' pattern
In the boulevards scattered, full a hatin': nigga chatterin'
Hoes, if you ask me, "What them niggas be about?"
Hate me 'cause my flow official
And I'm from that Dirty South

[Chorus]

[Verse One: Bun B]
Man, I been feelin' caged in
They try to stop us shackled us and dropped us
Tacklers, sackers, no propers, just smack us
Floppers, pro-tractors, ho-hoppers attack us
Broke crackers, no actors just coppers with choppers
With random and ?ricos? With cameras and peep holes
Can't stand us, we chose the scandalous, who planned this your people?
Fuck that you hero bucked at by weavels, and muskrats to seagulls
Touch that to bank rolls and c-notes to stank hoes and beagles
Drunk folks, clay folks, gay folks now we go to peep holes
Moving stars required, (?) nevermind my appearance
Leave your insurance for your clearance
Bitch, I roll for gun for endurance not a gimmick, nigga this ain't "Mommy Dearest"
A lot a said and clearing the closest and the freshest
This is that underground shit from Port Arson, Texas

[Chorus: Bun B]
I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga
I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga
Keep a bad yellow bitch that can fuck me down nigga
I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga
I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga
Keep mack up in my shit for my fucking pound nigga what?

[Verse Two: Pimp C]
I'm a big body flipper, syrup sipper
I keep two bitches so they call me Jack Tripper
Three years coming it, four as a rider
Only room for one dick bitch when I'm knocking you down
Got that dope by the pound, red jag on the ground
You can hear when I'm comin because I'm bangin' surround
And I'm getting my paper, so bitch fuck what you heard
My niggas ready to hit it they just wait for the word
Sell pipes and birds, water and herb, but not on the corner because my ho self-serve
When I'm ridin' the city, my car might swerve
My vision be blurred but I don't hit the curb
I got rich in the ghetto with my microphone
Everything I ride on wood and chrome
Ever since "Big Pimpin" I've been seeing the clones
Now everybody on they videos doing a sweet Jones

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Bun B]
We runnin' through this rap game in break-neck speed, break-neck speed
Blocks like begs please your lex keys
Your checks freeze, your bank account shut down over seas
And both of these and toke of these while blowin' trees with cloves of G's
Move over please, make room for elbows we sell folks we sell those
Felons in jail clothes, it get sticky like Velcro, gently rub her semen
Women get tied up in scotch tape, now watch fate take it up a notch
Wait, a hot date? baddies boppin under the sun, get blunted with Bun
This summer we shun all inhibitions
No wonder we gunnin, now watch a stunner become a livin' landmark
Hands spark like (?) leave your plans dark
Mercury, glistening fuck who dissing it
Diss me, can't miss me just can't relate bitch, this my history date
No driven for this we wait, to determine 'till eternally burning
Quote my destiny, child you're learning it?

[Chorus]

(feat. C-Note)

[Verse One: Pimp C]
Going down,say bitch, tell me what you think about me?
I keep a bad yellow hammer bitch cooking G's
And I got a candy '84 on 3's
And I keep these R&B bitches on they knees
I pimp so hard I was fucking up the game
Nigga, you're a lame you ain't holding like Sweet James
They [??] on my phone, call me Sir Jones
Make a lot a money, so I keep the chrome
20's on the car, keep a pint of bar
Gripping on the wood, playing above the law
Hustlas, ballers, selling boys cane
Fuck y'all pussy niggas too, it's whatever y'all wanna do....do

[Chorus: Bun B]
Dollars, we foldin' na, slab, we rollin' na, bitches we controllin' na
Man, I'm Holdin na [x4]

[Verse Two: Bun B]
Man, I break the scene, way before I became a teen
Crushing boys on the boulevard from summer to spring
Music orientated, so when the rap game originated
I beat it like puzzle pieces, niggas could fade it
I made it to levels that other players only dream
Brought heat to the scene, make the on me cream
And my money went from green to poppin' chrome
Plus I Got my self a yellow jazzy (????) to bone
Got the home and the cars, got the plaques and the stacks
But mane back in the days, it wasn't nothing like that
Shit, I remember when at first they wasn't really with it
But they damn near shitted on themselves when we did it 'cause we holdin' na

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: C-Note]
I'm holdin' na, big Benz looking swollen na
Because we young, they probably thinking that we stole it na
My papers' foldin' na, cigars, we be rolling na
And it's the whole third coast and we control it na
Down south we sippin' nothin' but bar
Four TV's in my cars, I'm a ghetto star
Chromin' blades on escaldes and parking lot pimpin'
We got these broads steady trippin' cause it platinum we shippin'
From Clover Land to PA (Port Arson) It be on for life
And if you fucking with them boys, you might lose your life
Niggas runnin' in your crib, you might lose your wife
And if we [???] at the light you might lose your ice
It's the C the N to the O-T-E
And you can crown me like a king, like my niggas UG
I put it down for [???] and that SUC
We hit the spots on all the blocks, we keep it H-O-T nigga we holdin' na

[Chorus]

(feat. Big Gipp (Goodie Mob))

[Verse One: Pimp C]
Uh, hold up smoke something bitch, uh, uh
Everybody want to know why the airplane was late
I was waiting for whitey to get fucking paper straight
I'm an underground king nigga, lets my nuts hang
Nigga saying I'm only in (????) Ain't no thang nigga
Everybody rappin like they ballin' and they rich
I see em' in the streets, I ain't believing that shit
They diamonds ain't shining, and they Rolex ain't real
While I'm gripping on this grain, sippin' lean and poppin' pills
Fuck how them bitches feel, I'm working wood wheel
In a 2000 Seville your stepdaddy can get killed
If he keeps talking shit, ain't no thang to get hit
On your video you trill, on your record you trying to diss
But everywhere we go, we represent the south
For Them niggas and Them girls with them golds in they mouth
Them boys with them P's and O's in they house
It's all about the trill bitch you ain't what this about...about...about

[Chorus: Bun B]
When you see me on the street, nigga don't say shit
Blowin' big on the sweep, nigga don't say shit
Everybody want the ice and everybody want to ball
But everybody ain't trill so we ain't fucking with y'all
When I see you at the show, nigga don't say shit
Acting bad with ya ho, nigga don't say shit
Everybody want the ice and everybody want to ball
But everybody ain't trill so we ain't fucking with y'all

[Verse Two: Bun B]
Say, nigga ain't got shit to hide
I ain't got nothing to prove
We ain't got nothing to gain but I got everything to lose
So I'm forever bring the blues to the issue
Pick and choose if I miss ya, stick and move when I diss ya
Disapprove we can get ya and your bullshit, I be the same
The game will never be the same, It was made for me yo gain
You see the thangs for me to name I go by, so fly, oh my, flow sly
Wait awhile you know why (Why?) too many niggas pop collars and drop dollars
Baby ballin' bullshitter frontin' like rottweiliers
No bark, no bite, but showing thangs
Talking loud like they knowing thangs
I'm from Texas nigga, all we do is blow them thangs
Fuck your clique, your corner, your city, your last name
Stuck in the fast lane,(????) your ass mane
Bask at the light, blast at the day, blast at the night
Got your ass in a fight
It ain't no passing tonight

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Big Gipp of Goodie Mob]
People waiting, some be hating, I'll be shaking, they'll be faking
Waiting for me to fall, but yet they comin' off the wall
Till I'm ready keep that gun steady and ready
For anybody crossing the line with that fuck shit
I got a (????), got a hoe, got a trunk with the funk
Got the radio on pump when I come through a slump
Remember me? The one that had your back up in the club?
Remember me? The one that bring you on and show you love?
Remember me? The one that rolled by deep in a cadillina
With a rusty ass niner looking for trouble
So what? I know the same streets you know
Yeah so what? I go the same places you go
I got the mark in my skin so you know my set
I'm the heart, you the place, I'm always first, you always late
I'm the king in these streets till the muthafucking end
So you fuck with me, you gotta fuck with my friend

[Chorus]

[Verse One: Bun B]
Say, look here man I'm a rapper
Hold up, let me take that back
I make rap music, but that don't mean all a nigga do is rap
But that don't matter I've been labeled, stigmatized, stereotyped
There's an entertainment disease worse than cancer, a venereal type
I spit imperial-type game like Digga from the Sqaud
But they act like they can't separate a real nigga from the fraud
Rule number one: never send a boy to fuck a grown ass lady
And respect the game 'cause the game is known to be gone fast baby
Now It's a long pass maybe you should try diving for it
Fools act like they striving for it hit Total Request Live and blow it
Knowing ain't a giving and nothing is
See all this candy-coated and bluffing is detrimental to our beautiful black southern kids
Enough of this man, let's get this here straight like creases
It's a never-ending cycle and motion that never ceases
It's compresses and releases and for the love of Jesus
It's breaks the soul, now we forever left to pick up the pieces it's dirty money

[Chorus x2: Bun B]
Niggas laughing but ain't a damn thing funny
You gotta have paper in this land of milk and honey
Yeah, it's bright outside but not nessicarily sunny
And no matter how you make it, it's all dirty money baby

[Verse Two: Pimp C]
Every drug I sold was for the dirty money
Most of my niggas is dead because the game is funny
You could get your life took at the drop of the dime
But I'mma pimp till the end and keep my money on mind
Most of my life I've been broke trying to save my bread
I never ask to be hustling now I watch out for feds
'Cause niggas be talking and giving up game
About the cheese, the green, the pills, the coke D's
I marry my pockets, so now I chase my queen
Keep a thang for the haters with the red beam
Every since fifteen I've been a big money fiend
Sippin' cold codeine and pulling up clean
Popping up at the spot and dropping the top
And keep a bad yellow [???] with my dick on rock uh!

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Bun B]
You can't get no house, no car
No weed, no bar, no flash, no show
No class, no flow, no help, no love
No liquor, no drug, no clique, no crew
No tracks to flow to, no pager, no phone
No flavor, no zone, no fiend, no cut
no wife, no slut, no name,
Nowhere in the game to get me five
No nothing without that dirty ass M-O-N-E-Y

[Chorus]

[Verse Four: Pimp C]
My momma taught me what the value of a dollar should be
But everybody I saw balling was rolling selling Ki's
In the late 80's niggas pulling up on D's
Putting dick up in these hoes and making 'em pay fees
Learn how to ride dirty 'cause ain't shit for free
Then all them niggas got popped that's all I needed to see
For some the dope game cool 'cause that's all that they could be
I know God ain't put me down here just to be serving no fiends [x2]

[Chorus]

(feat. DJ Paul, Juicy J)

[Scratching: "Like a pimp"]

[Bun B]
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 joke
You 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 Cards
Original 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 buck
Now 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 pimping
This shit real pimping

[Chorus #1: Pimp C]
I got them bitches popping pussy getting buck (getting buck)
And you know that we couldn't give a fuck (give a fuck)
I got them bitches on the corner selling cock (selling cock)
And the game that we go don't stop (don't stop)
I got them thug ass niggaz with the syrup (with the syrup)
And you know that we always blowing herb (blowing herb)
And in the club man you know we stay strapped (stay strapped)
And bitch you know that it ain't about this rap (ain't about this rap)

[Bun B]
To 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 hoe
I 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 tosser

[Pimp C]
Sweet 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 bricks
Popping 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 car

[Chorus #2: Pimp C]
I got them bitches popping pussy getting buck (getting buck)
And you know that we couldn't give a fuck (give a fuck)
I got them bitches on the corner selling cock (selling cock)
And the game that I got don't stop (don't stop)
I got them thug ass niggaz with the syrup (with the syrup)
And you know that we always blowing herb (blowing herb)
And in the club man you know we stay strapped (stay strapped)
And bitch you know that it ain't about this rap (ain't about this rap)
Bitch niggaz getting hit in the front (in the front)
I give a fuck bitch you can hit the blunt (hit the blunt)
And everyday young boys that's paid (that's paid)
Lay it down when we chopping on the blades (chopping on the blades)

[Juicy J]
I'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 keys
Always 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 mouth
Optimos 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 rubbers
Right hand Rolex watch
Stuffed shirt plastic glock
Back pocket Chevy keys
Ready for the brain wash
I'mma go pimp a bitch
I'mma like wicked witch
Always got to watch your friends
Backstabbers cause a snitch

[DJ Paul]
Now 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 hoes
What 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 her
I 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 watch
I 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 walk (Bitch!)

[Chorus #2]

[Pimp C]
Hold up, hold up

(feat. Kool Ace, Too $Hort)

[Pimp C:]
(Uh, Uh) One time for yo' muthafuckin'...(whuut)
Back, bitch (uh)...Kool Ace (whuut), UGK...(huh)

[Chorus: Pimp C]
Pimpin' ain't no illusion,
And pimpin' ain't never died.
Mo' pimps was on that heroin
And yo' pimp tripped out on that fry.
The dikes done came through
And straight threw off all the game;
Got all these hoes thinkin'
They could manage they own change.

[Kool Ace:]
But it ain't no illusion,
I know...you all have witnessed
He rollin' in my Caady mo'
Wit' fly bitches,
Makin' ole deals: Now, ho (huh, huh)
Ain't Bob Barker
But I'm caught up in this game
Mo' like...Peter Parker.
P-I-M-P, take the P's that I am.
I want you payin' hoes in my army
Like...uh...Uncle Sam,
And we gon' jam...
I'm talkin' 'bout the world greatest show
I know my shit is extreme
But I'm all about them does.
When I'm steppin' on the scene
Be there four deep...hella clan
My reality is your favorite dream
(Stop that shit, daddy...)
Best believe Kool Ace gon' keep it real.
Pimp C & Bun B to testify for the ear
Excuse me, y'all, but this about Southern shit.
Now, tell me can you...uh...feel this, bitch?
We givin' 'em brain contusions...
Pimp C, what's the conclusion?

[Pimp C:]
Pimpin' ain't no illusion...

[Chorus: x2]

[Pimp C:]
Pimpin' ain't dead...nigga, it just began
(How the fuck you know Sweet Jones?)
My hoes still out there sellin' ass.
Yo' bitch is out of pocket,
'Cause yo' pimpin' was scary;
Real hoes gon' front on a simp
But she gon' do it for daddy.
Fuck niggas watch them mack and pimp on my floozie;
But, boy, my bitches know the difference
Between real pimpin' and movies
It's the difference between real leather
And that shit at yo' house.
I don't know what y'all doin' up there,
But we really pimpin' in the South.
Every since I was 17,
I been stackin' my green:
Went for servin' rocks to fiends,
And rockin' club full a teens.
Went from bumpin' Screw in Houston,
Sippin' promythazine,
To ridin' in a 8 600 with sheath,
To smokin' on sticky green.
I'm still Pimp C, bitch
I'm claimin' P.A., they hate us;
But, me and Kool Ace rollin' a Lexus
Sittin' on all gold Daytons.
Bitch, take a look around
Those hoes steady choosin'.
This is the conclusion: pimpin' ain't no illusion.

[Chorus: x2]

Bun B:
If you got any love fo' that broad you wit'
Nigga, move her 'fore you lose her,
'Cause a beggar ain't a muthafuckin' chooser.
Third leg is a bitch abuser, infamous
In cities where big pimpin' is my hoes clean.
No AIDS, herpies, cyphillis
Come catch a wif a this...
Damn, can't you taste it?
Now yo' money's up in smoke
Like you freebased it.
Now bitch replaced it
Wit' a sexual favor
But don't get mad at real pimpin', nigga
Check yo' behavior...and savor
The aroma from Promona to Tacoma;
Got my pimpin' diploma for bein' a Cadillac chromer.
Fuck a Sonoma...
I'm on a mission for Benzes
Knowin' 'xactly where my ends is, ballin' relentless.
And then my friends is
Slappin' niggas with glass chins
It's funny...sendin' tricks home
Broke and defenseless; and, ever since this
Boy been pimpin' the pen,
I promise never to ever leave home
Without my pimpin' again...that's why...

[Chorus: x2]

Too $hort:
You know, I got to tell you players what I'm talkin' about:
My bitch got bold opened a bank account.
When I found the bitch checkbook,
I didn't get mad
'Cause there was no doubt that I be gettin' the cash.
I broke it down to her,
She gave me the dough;
Do you remember what you was
Before I made you a ho?
You was a broke bitch,
You couldn't even smoke shit,
Couldn't stay fo-cused,
And, don't forget it, bitch...
Yo' whole life changed the day you met me.
Now you think you need a bank account,
Baby, I can't see
You managin' this money...it's too much.
All you do is look good...
And then you fuck.
Git my money, git yo' money
It's all the same.
The shit ain't even funny when you talk about this game.
They call me Too $hort, baby
I'm still in it.
Ain't no camouflage, nuttin' but this real pimpin'...beeyatch.

[Chorus: x3]
...pimpin' ain't no illusion

(feat. The Corruptor Soundtrack)

Take it off..
Baby take it alll.. off..

[Pimp C]
Uhh, take it off chick, bend over, let me see it
If you lookin for a trill-type figure, let me be it
Got the V-12 Benz, parked outside
It ain't enough room to fit dem guls in my ride
It's onna, work somethin, twerk somethin basis
Makin big change, dancin in them tricks faces
She sleep in the day, but bump some booty at night
You kiss that thang and I'm out, cause she been playin with my pipe
Now get your mind right, hater, you a simp (a simp)
And I'm a red hot undercover pimmmmmp (pimmmmp)
that make them guls get down on the flo', on the flo'
Like a real live money makin pro, uhh

[Chorus: Pimp C]

You gotta take it off, take it off, UNH
And let a first class nigga break you off, chick
You gotta take it off, take it off, UNH
And let a first class nigga break you off some, chick

[Bun B]
Unh..
It was a Secret that Victoria tried to hide
A little sly delight, I done pushed my pride aside
just to slide inside, man I done died tonight
Now what I'm 'sposed to do? Been got close to you
Lookin like a poster to, don't wanna boast but you Missus
do a Dr. Feelgood, lay a playa real good
Limpin came back, and it was still good, she will
put a few tips in her mouth, that's that definition
of them true chicks in the South, let me do my thang
on the cool quick to the crotch, get the beds but guess what?
We kickin them hot, shakin it soft, shoulda been here
She did eight and the law, but you was late and you lost
Man she was takin it off

[Chorus]

[Pimp C]
I'm sitting, touchin' with my diamonds on, and man I
miss that boy Pac, sippin' liquor tryin' to grip the chrome
I keep a chip off in my cell phone, they used to call me Pimp C
but now the chicks they call me James Jones
And if I skip I'm back to D-slangin, keep them boys nod-headed
Keep the boppers with they butts swangin
I used to be the young playa holdin
Now I leave them guls with they jellyroll swollen, I'm rollin

[Chorus]

[Bun B]
Comin direct from the Gentlemen's, full of that flint again
Live on stage fellas, this is Cinnamon
Fine, Black and feminine, I'm fin to win, look at the sin I'm in
Full of hallucinogens, me her and her friends
Now the venom in my snake, wanna poison
Come in with a brother and the boys and
make sure you don't forget to bring the toys and
we stuck it check it, we gots to keep em gettin bucked naked
Makin it soft, we keep these boppers takin it off

[Chorus x2]

[Pimp C]
Hold up

[Pimp C:]
Uh...whuuuut (hehe)
Smoke somethin', bitch...smoke somethin'...

[Pimp C:]
I'm up early 'cause my nigga
Don't sell dope after night time.
Love choppin' blades, rollin' hooptie
'N move the dope through the pipeline
Pimp C, bitch...holla at yo' bitch,
Now yo' bitch on my team;
Got her buyin' us sticky green
Lace some with promythazine
Candy sweets, a candy bitch,
You lookin' at a candy boy.
I done came down Main and popped trunk;
Hit the switch on my candy toy.
We all young ghetto boyz,
That's why we act this way.
Tryin' to see a million dollars,
Hopin' these niggas don't blast today.

[Bun B:]
Pro smoke, pro choke,
Anti-broke, conservative liberal
Left-wing slangin', right-wing hangin'
In criminal court, it's civil.
In the middle of re-al-it-y
Unsolved mys-ter-ies riddle,
Knockin' over fat cats,
And gettin' my thoughts off bits and kibbles.
On note pads I scribble,
Write rippers that'll make you think.
Snap so hard it'll break your synchronicity,
Fuck it, take it, trick,
I fake it...blink 'n poof
We disappearin' into a shroud of dozier
Cloud composures, all-nighters like Folger's
But, bitch, I tried to told ya...

[Chorus: Pimp C]
Rollin' Seville (rollin' Seville),
Grippin' my steal (grippin' my steal),
My Tahoe real, man, I'm workin' wood wheel.
Sedan DeVille (sedan DeVille),
House on the hill (house on the hill),
Countin' up my scrill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel.
Nigga, how you feel (nigga, how you feel),
I feel so trill (I feel so trill),
Might pop me a pill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel.
House on the hill (house on the hill),
Marijuana fields (marijuana fields),
Grippin' my steal, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel.

[Bun B:]
They tellin' me, "Bun don't go there"
But, man, I just gots to bring it.
These niggas, they wanna hate on that Texas,
But scared to sing it.
They don't know what that star 'bout
They don't know what that bar 'bout
They don't know what that candy car 'bout
Or smokin' that joint 'bout.
All they know is what the fuck I tell 'em
Or what the fuck we sell 'em
Smokin' Swishers, wood grain,
And leavin' stains on cerebellums.
Rebellum, propell 'em, gel 'em
From P.A. to Deep Ellum.
Tell 'em I tol' 'em
Wrote 'em, fuck it, phone 'em
To hell to heaven.

[Pimp C:]
I just spent 60 G's
On a brand new Eldo-reeze:
Black-on-black, drop top 'lac;
Northstar fifth wheel on back.
Sometimes I feel like Lil' Ke
When my trunk steady hummin'
Had to leave my bitch
'Cause I fell in love with my chrome-plated woman.
I love my wood wheel Grant,
'84 Cadillacs that slant,
Slowed-down Screw tapes that knock,
Blowin' on Green private stock.
Bitch, I don't eat hamhocks,
Try 20-ounce Angus beef.
Hangin' with young niggas, that pack big triggas,
'N got big-ass diamonds off in they teeth.

[Chorus: Pimp C]
Fifth wheel and grill (fifth wheel and grill),
Candy Seville (candy Seville),
Might pop a pill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel (workin' wood wheel).
House on the hill (house on the hill),
Flexin' mils (flexin' mils),
Countin' up my scrill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel.
Comin' down so trill (comin' down so trill),
Nigga, how you feel (Nigga, how you feel)?
Might pop a pill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel.
Grippin' the steal (grippin' the steal),
Nigga, I'm so real (Nigga, I'm so real).
Bitch, how you feel? Nigga, I'm workin' wood wheel.

[Bun B:]
Smokin' on bionic, ubonic chronic...it's so ironic.
Sippin' gin and tonic: supersonic like Johnny Mneumonic.
We crash your party, piss on your parade,
Sip syrup like it's Lemonade
From Paris to the Palasades to the Prominade.
Bomb and fade, closes the car, break worlds, it's plain as day.
That's the game we came to play,
It don't change, ain't a thang to say.

[Pimp C:]
It's goin' down in the H-Town,
Young playa from the South 'bout to blaze a pound;
Tryin' to find me a bopp with some good mouth...
I know you freaky bitches know what I'm talkin' 'bout.
Ain't got no time to play, girl;
Let me get a little throwed off some good skunk.
Bitch, didn't you know who the fuck I was,
Off in the street, lookin' for the good stuff?
Bitch, I don't give a fuck about yo' man, so
Bitch tryin' to fuck fast, I'ma fuck slow.
How the fuck you're gonna out-fuck James, ho?
Like Teddy Pendergrass, you better let it go.

[Bun B:]
Gettin' ready fo'...head doctors, show shockers, body rockers,
Late-night do' knockers...
Gotta break us off big pimpin', baby, we ho clockers,
Bitch bosses, takin' no losses, best go ask aks Lil' Wee-wee.
Baby brother, Sweet James Jones: guerilla pimpin' at its finest.
Leavin' haters and ho-hustlers behind us, rewind us...

[Pimp C:]
Touched like Midas, these bitch-ass niggas they study and bite us.
Couldn't not recite us, come to our show,
And bitch niggas try to fight us.
Ho niggas scream and talk, trill niggas bust and leave...
How the fuck you're gonna go to war
When you bitch-ass niggas ain't got no cheese?

[Chorus: Pimp C]
Blowin' big kill (blowin' big kill),
Million-dollar deals (million-dollar deals),
Nigga, I'm so trill, bitch, I'm workin' wood wheel...

Uh...puttin' down one time for the king, Lil' J
Smoke somethin', bitch.

[No lyrics]