P.I.M.P. - Snoop Dogg Remix
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Now shorty, now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna
I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid
Look baby this is simple, you can't see
You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me (woo)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Ruh-ch-ch-ch-ch-emix
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm 'cause I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' C-R-I-P
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm an' I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' P-I-M-P
Yeah bitch, I got my Now and Later gators on
I'm bout to show you how my pimp hand is way strong
Your dead wrong if you think that pimpin' gon' die
12-piece with a hundred hoes by my side
I'm down with that nigga 50 like I'm down with blue
Fuck 'cuz nah nigga motha fuck you
G-U-N-I-Tizzy, fuckin' with me and the D-P-Gizzy
Niggas in New York know how Doggy get down
I got my niggas in Queens, I got my bitches Uptown
I got my business in Manhattan, I ain't fuckin' around
I got some butter pecan Puerto Ricans from the Boogie Down
(down) That's waiting on me to return
So they can snatch these braids out
And put my shit in a perm, word (word)
They love it when I get to crippin'
And spitting this mag-ah-ni-ficent pimpin'
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm an' I'm a G
Cause I'm a mutha fuckin' C-R-I-P
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' P-I-M-P
You need to switch over and ride with a star
It'll get you far
I'm a P-I-M-P G-A-N-G-S-T-E-R
Yeah, I'm young, but I ain't dumb
Missin' some tricks, but I ain't one
I'm a guerrilla for scrilla, I trip you, you try to run
I let 'em do as they please, as long as they get my cheese
Even if they gotta freeze, or if it's a hundred degrees
I keep 'em on their knees, take a look under my sleeve
I ain't gotta give 'em much, they're happy with Mickey D's, PIMP
We keep it pimpin' in the South, you know how it go (dirty dirty!)
We drive old-school, white walls with mink floors
I spin the G-Unit piece, and get em' dizzy
Handcuff her if you love her or your girl coming with me
When your neck and wrist glow, she already should know (what)
That money make the world go round, so lets get mo'
It's time to show these playas how it should be done
I don't know what you heard about me (yeah)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (woo)
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see (uh huh)
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me (uh huh)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (yea)
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Yeah, in Hollywoood they say there's no b'ness
Like show b'ness
In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness ya know
They say I talk a lil fast, but if you listen a lil faster
I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, bitch
Hahaha
Yeah
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Now shorty, now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna
I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid
Look baby this is simple, you can't see
You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me (woo)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Ruh-ch-ch-ch-ch-emix
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm 'cause I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' C-R-I-P
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm an' I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' P-I-M-P
Yeah bitch, I got my Now and Later gators on
I'm bout to show you how my pimp hand is way strong
Your dead wrong if you think that pimpin' gon' die
12-piece with a hundred hoes by my side
I'm down with that nigga 50 like I'm down with blue
Fuck 'cuz nah nigga motha fuck you
G-U-N-I-Tizzy, fuckin' with me and the D-P-Gizzy
Niggas in New York know how Doggy get down
I got my niggas in Queens, I got my bitches Uptown
I got my business in Manhattan, I ain't fuckin' around
I got some butter pecan Puerto Ricans from the Boogie Down
(down) That's waiting on me to return
So they can snatch these braids out
And put my shit in a perm, word (word)
They love it when I get to crippin'
And spitting this mag-ah-ni-ficent pimpin'
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm an' I'm a G
Cause I'm a mutha fuckin' C-R-I-P
I don't know what you've heard about me
But a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me
I drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G
And I'm a mutha fuckin' P-I-M-P
You need to switch over and ride with a star
It'll get you far
I'm a P-I-M-P G-A-N-G-S-T-E-R
Yeah, I'm young, but I ain't dumb
Missin' some tricks, but I ain't one
I'm a guerrilla for scrilla, I trip you, you try to run
I let 'em do as they please, as long as they get my cheese
Even if they gotta freeze, or if it's a hundred degrees
I keep 'em on their knees, take a look under my sleeve
I ain't gotta give 'em much, they're happy with Mickey D's, PIMP
We keep it pimpin' in the South, you know how it go (dirty dirty!)
We drive old-school, white walls with mink floors
I spin the G-Unit piece, and get em' dizzy
Handcuff her if you love her or your girl coming with me
When your neck and wrist glow, she already should know (what)
That money make the world go round, so lets get mo'
It's time to show these playas how it should be done
I don't know what you heard about me (yeah)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (woo)
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see (uh huh)
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me (uh huh)
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (yea)
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
Yeah, in Hollywoood they say there's no b'ness
Like show b'ness
In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness ya know
They say I talk a lil fast, but if you listen a lil faster
I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, bitch
Hahaha
Yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Curtis Jackson, Denaun M. Porter, Brandon Parrott
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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