Po Pimp Lyrics

Po Pimp

Po Pimp
Do Or Die/Tung Twista/Johnny P
Album: Picture
This


Chorus: Johnny P

1-Do you wanna riiide?
In the
backseat, of a Caddy
Chop it up, with Do or Die...

Verse One:
Belo

Seven double oh P.M. fly low to them hoes in the B-M
Sippin
Seagram, chewin on a wheat stem
Touchin on my fo' fin
Move it to the back
so I can see who beepin this Po Pimp
Spring to the phone with a slow
limp
In a trip that shitted with 3-1-2-7-6-2-10
Three line connection, as
the rest of them wanted affection
Just bring the bead, we got the drinks you
need
And plus we strapped with two protections
I put the phone in the
hook, then I pause for a minute
Cause I forgot where I met the hoe
And
the feeling I've forgotten if the hoes wanna snap
I straight up check the
hoe, really doe, to the crib
(rpt 1)

Verse Two: AK-47,
Belo

Seven deuce five, the ride the point to spot the live hoes
Three
miles per hour, like we runnin up on some ri-vals
Never to deny though, these
bitches look fly 'Lo
Introduce myself, a to the motherfuckin K finna
recognize
Then I loose myself juice myself
As you take one pull, uhh,
pass it to the left and umm
Self-centered niggaz'll take two pulls
'Cuz
they thinkin about samplin umm
P-I, M-P, ology, but logically
We're
learnin' these hoes biology, and obviously, well...

Mmm, ain't this some
shit, pull up in the C-A
D-I, Double-L, with ah A-C, A-C hoes
They peep
those, P-I, M-P, and they think that automatically
Cause he's a pimp, he
gotta be, full of that
M-O, N-E, but why?
Cause nigga be sportin nice
cars and fancy clothes
Fresh jewels Girbaud flexin one five oh (chop
chop)
Chop up that paper hoe, chop up that paper hoe
Watch where your
lips go, caress my tip slow
To the tempo, instrumental
Real simple when
you fuckin with a pimp doe
Get involved in the backseat
Let's have me in
the cab betcha mess with ya young ass
Smokin on that finest grass
Never
miss what you never had, at last
P-I, M-P, ology, but logically
We
learnin these hoes biology, and obviously, well...
(rpt 1)

Verse
Three: Tung Twista

Well a motherfucker might be broke and shit
and
then collecting no dough from tips
But I be spittin mo' game than a mouthful
of poker chips
to get them hoes with the Oprah lips and the provokin
hips
and never gotta tell her many lies
I been lookin in the city skies,
get up in the kitty's thighs
cause I'm blessed with a look of innocence,
good sex
peanut butter complex and some pretty eyes
Pity cries on my
strategy side, yo when outta me gotta be
right, that'd be the flatter me
right
But if the head the bonk c'mon suck a nigga dick
Members of my
click, wanna see what that'd be like
I know you wanna try it out, to the
rhythm of a high hat
Don't be bogus and deny that
I done got a hold of
dem my fellas on the train
while she lie back, now motherfucker can you bow
down?
Where your ride at? On the passenger side of your hoes
Tryin ta
come up on another G
The broad all up under me tryin ta smother me
Lookin
love-ly while I roll another bead, suddenly
She learned that I don't deal
with emotions
But when we in the room she rubbin me with lotion
Comin'
like an ocean coastin have a cig thinking
Me and Do or Die dig drinkin love
potion
The word that was never said
Twisted be givin women dick in the
bed
Until they sick in the head, and if I ever leave whoever dead
They
ain't trickin the Feds or spittin' game
But it's chicken and bread
Kickin
them legs in the air like a playa do
Then be little in a day or two
After
words I'm slay a crew, now that's some pimp type shit
That B-Low and AK'll
do, wearing gray and blue
If a hoe wanna holler then you a playa if you hit
them ends
and get the dividends but you a pimp if you can get
The same
hoe to wanna freak your friends
'Cause I studied P-I, M-P, ology, but
logically
Be learnin these hoes biology, obviously, well...
(rpt
1)


Source: Kirill Grouchnikov (c1272122
techst02.technion.ac.is)