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作词 : Mitchelle, Round, Round, Smith |
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Chorus：johnny p |
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Do you wanna riiide? |
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In the backseat, of a caddy |
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Chop it up, with do or die |
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Do you wanna riiide? |
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In the backseat, of a caddy |
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Chop it up, with do or die |
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Verse one: belo |
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Seven double oh p.m. |
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Fly low to them hoes in the b-m |
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Sippin seagram, chewin on a wheat stem |
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Touchin on my fo' fin |
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Move it to the back so i can see who beepin this po pimp |
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Spring to the phone with a slow limp |
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In a trip that ************tted with 3-1-2-7-6-2-10 |
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Three line connection |
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As the rest of them wanted affection |
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Just bring the ******, we got the drinks you need |
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And plus we strapped with two protections |
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I put the phone in the hook, then i pause for a minute |
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Cause i forgot where i met the hoe |
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And the feeling i've forgotten if the hoes wanna snap |
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I straight up check the hoe, really doe |
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To the crib |
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Chorus |
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Verse two: ak-47, belo |
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Seven deuce five, the ride the point to spot the live hoes |
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Three miles per hour |
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Like we runnin up on some ri-vals |
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Never to deny though, these ******* look fly 'lo |
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Introduce myself |
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A to the mother****** k finna recognize |
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Then i loose myself juice myself |
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As you take one pull, uhh, pass it to the left and umm |
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Self-centered *******z'll take two pulls cuz they thinkin about samplin umm |
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P-i, m-p, ology, but logically |
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We learnin these hoes biology, and obviously, well... |
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Mmm, ain't this some ************t, pull up in the c-a |
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D-i, double-l, with ah a-c, a-c hoes |
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They peep those, p-i, m-p, and they think that automatically |
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Cause he's a pimp, he gotta be, full of that |
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M-o, n-e, but why? |
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Cause ******* be sportin nice cars and fancy clothes |
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Fresh jewels girbaud flexin one five oh (chop chop) |
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Chop up that paper hoe, chop up that paper hoe |
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Watch where your lips go, caress my tip slow |
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To the tempo, instrumental |
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Real simple when you ****** with a pimp doe |
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Get involved in the backseat |
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Let's have me in the cab betcha mess with ya young ass |
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Smokin on that finest grass |
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Never miss what you never had, at last |
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P-i, m-p, ology, but logically |
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We learnin these hoes biology, and obviously, well... |
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Chorus |
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Verse three: tung twista |
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Well a mother******* might be broke and ************t |
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And then collecting no dough from tips |
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But i be spittin mo' game than a mouthful of poker chips |
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To get them hoes with the oprah lips and the provokin hips |
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And never gotta tell her many lies |
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I been lookin in the city skies, get up in the kitty's thighs |
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Cause i'm blessed with a look of innocence, good sex |
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Peanut butter complex and some pretty eyes |
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Pity cries on my strategy side, yo when outta me gotta be |
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Right, that'd be the flatter me right |
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But if the head the bonk c'mon suck a ******* ************ |
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Members of my click, wanna see what that'd be like |
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I know you wanna try it out, to the rhythm of a high hat |
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Don't be bogus and deny that |
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I done got a hold of dem my fellas on the train |
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While she lie back, now mother******* can you buy that? |
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Where your ride at? |
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On the passenger side of your hoe |
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Tryin ta come up on another g |
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The broad all up under me tryin ta smother me |
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Lookin love-ly while i roll another bead, suddenly |
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She learned that i don't deal with emotions |
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But when we in the room she rubbin me with lotion |
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Comin like an ocean coastin have a cig thinking |
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Me and do or die dig drinkin love potion |
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The word that was never said |
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Twisted be givin women ************ in the bed, until they sick in the head |
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And if i ever leave whoever dead |
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They ain't trickin the feds or spittin game but it's chicken and bread |
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Kickin them legs in the air like a playa do |
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Then belittle in a day or two |
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After words i'ma slay a crew |
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Now that's some pimp type ************t that b-low and ak'll do |
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Wearing gray and blue |
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If a hoe wanna holler then you a playa if you hit them ends |
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And get the dividends |
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But you a pimp if you can get the same hoe to wanna freak your friends |
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Cause i studied p-i, m-p, ology, but logically |
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Be learnin these hoes biology, obviously, well... |
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Chorus |