Big Pimpin` Extended Version Lyrics

Big Pimpin` Extended Version lyrics

Big Pimpin' (Extended Version) 

 f/ U.G.K. 

 

 [Jay-Z] 

 Uhh, uh uh uh 

 It's big pimpin baby.. 

 It's big pimpin, spendin G's 

 Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh.. 

 Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah 

 Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah.. 

 

 You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em 

 Cause I don't fuckin need em 

 Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good 

 But I don't fuckin feed em 

 First time they fuss I'm breezin 

 Talkin bout, "What's the reasons?" 

 I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch 

 Better trust than believe em 

 In the cut where I keep em 

 til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts 

 Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up 

 Let em play with the dick in the truck 

 Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs 

 Divorce him and split his bucks 

 Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread 

 so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. 

 parts with nothin, y'all be frontin 

 Me give my heart to a woman? 

 Not for nothin, never happen 

 I'll be forever mackin 

 Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion 

 I got no patience 

 And I hate waitin.. 

 Hoe get yo' ass in 

 And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now 

 RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah 

 And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now 

 RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah 

 

 Chorus One: Jay-Z 

 

 We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin cheese 

 Check em out now 

 Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B 

 Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B 

 

 [Bun B] 

 Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario 

 Comin straight up out the black bar-rio 

 Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe 

 Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh 

 Oops, my bad, that's my scenario 

 No I can't fuck a scary hoe 

 Now every time, every place, everywhere we go 

 Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!" 

 Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit 

 We don't pull it out over little shit 

 And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit 

 Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab 

 Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me 

 and you see us comin down on yo' slab 

 Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it 

 But nigga if you hatin I 

 then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it 

 You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on 

 Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track 

 Timbaland let me spit my pro's on 

 Pump it up in the pro-zone 

 That's the track that we breakin these hoes on 

 Ain't the track that we flow's on 

 But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone 

 We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man 

 Fo' real it don't get no bigger man 

 Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip 

 Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool 

 

 Chorus Two: Bun B 

 

 We be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B 

 Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga 

 

 [Pimp C] 

 Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup 

 All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck 

 Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall 

 If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all 

 If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes 

 Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me 

 Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys 

 Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise 

 

 Chorus Two 

 

 [Jay-Z] 

 On a canopy my stamina be enough for Pamela Anderson Lee 

 MTV jam of the week 

 Made my money quick then back to the streets but 

 Still sittin on blades... sippin that ray... 

 Standin on the corner of my block hustlin 

 Still gettin that cane 

 half what I paid slippin right through customs 

 It'll sell by night its extra white... 

 I got so many grams if the man find out 

 it will land me in jail for life 

 But im still big pimpin spendin chesse 

 with B.U.N. B, Pimp C, and Timothy 

 We got bitches in the back of the truck, laughin it up 

 Jigga Man that's what's up 

 

 Chorus