Lyrics:
stutter
When I said that I'm goin platinum, sellin rhymes
I went platinum, seven times
And still they ill they want to see us fry
I guess because of only
fun you ain't doin' it right (nope)
Late nights by myself I like that (i like that)
I got that drip in my walk (splash!)
I got that pimp in my talk
bring death on
Nigga I'm called the killa
Cause every time he get it, it brought chills
Lead that's what made 'em take his ass for real
I done ?
(Poppers on the Chrome)
One time for ya boy Pimp C (Pocket full of stones)
I gotta pocket full of stones cause I fell off my dirt bike in cargo pants
I rock
Showed up in a red stretch hearse full of vampires
Blood red rims straight rollin' on flat tires
Screachin' to a halt sparks spittin' at tha
take one day, step at a time
To find mine (what)
As we go
Through the blinding road
Inclining
To find me some mo'
[Repeat chorus 1]
[Chorus 2:
Watchin the pimps roll by in they fancy cars
But never did the thought even pass
At the time, he 'posed to have his behind in class
So when report cards
and she's flying, I feel I'm flying by em
'Cause my mind's on cloud nine and in a mine at the same time
Pimps see the wings on the underground king
Who's
take a mile grab em up
Paint a ten clear coats to make it shine
Make me circle through the neighborhood 55 times
With my gas tank full, drank
know it's us
One hit is like "The Notebook"
By time it end you be chokin' up
I'm 'bout to knock 'em down
I'm 'bout to pull the trigger
Feelin' like
sees the butterfly as weak
And figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits
Already surrounded by this mad city
The caterpillar goes to work
on her mind
A pistol in her purse and a heart full of grind
I'm pimp type, MJ, drop my top, light that dro
Hand on the wood with the pedal on the floor
tell that to whoever,
I do it like a pimp, I'm psychedelic,
I got a hand full of baby pie, now get your feet off of my leather, bitch!
[Chorus]
tell that to whoever,
I do it like a pimp, I'm psychedelic,
I got a hand full of baby pie, now get your feet off of my leather, bitch!
[Chorus]
Stat Quo baby, Atlanta's own in this thang
Uh, uh
I stays by my 'fetti baby, big boy Chevy baby
Choose a pimp, hop on in
Only if you're ready baby
Ain't
of that cali-flower
Every time I write rhymes in first class
New Rollie on, that's how I define high times
Long way from them drive-bys
Them ratchet
of losers serving ghetto style
Creaking on a 40 and it's making me brave
If a punk jumps up, then I'll put him in his grave
Chilling ICP on a full time basis
knowledge
for niggaz that's full of flodgin
Its guaranteed to get fucked up
by them real mobsters killa killa killa
Whatcha gonna do, is yo color red or blue
played by the pimps
Had Gladys knights only you were saved by pips
Now you see the fame on me
I was built for this shit
Like bron in wynnwood
Got some
And when they say "food" it's time to eat
If a screw says "Nigger" I don't answer
Yes sir, no sir three bags full sir
Sometimes inmates would even call
Ladies and gentlemen
It's time to test the spirit bomb
In the trap with the press (trap, trap)
Whip and flex (whip 'em)
Brick phone in my
[B.G.](BulletProof)
V.L
(Team up)
V
V.L
(Team up, team up)
V.L
(Team up)
V.L
(Team up)
V.L
Verse 1: BulletProof
I'm full of that raw
???? a cop
the gutter
Watch a nigga full of life-life close like shutters
Godamn stayin healthy is hard as a motherfucker
Fresh off the block G's know my name
mean to expose him
But I feel like I was chosen
Yea the gods above have spoken
Time to put this shit in motion
Gotta spend money to get money
I live by
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