Wood Wheel

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Pimp C

Chad Lamont Butler (December 29, 1973 – December 4, 2007), better known by his stage name Pimp C, was an American rapper, singer, and producer. Pimp C was best known for his work with Bun B as a founding member of the Underground Kingz (UGK). more »

Year:

2008

3:31

187 Views

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[Pimp C]
Uh, what (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 boys,
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,
F*ck 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 f*ck I tell 'em
Or what the f*ck 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, f*ck 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 Palisades to the Promenade
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 thing 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 f*ck I was,
Off in the street, lookin' for the good stuff?
Bitch, I don't give a f*ck about yo' man, so
Bitch tryin' to f*ck fast, I'ma f*ck slow.
How the f*ck you're gonna out-f*ck 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 f*ck you're gonna go to war
When you bitch-ass niggas ain't got no cheese?

[Chorus]

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

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