Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pymp Tyte , by - Fat Pat. Release date: 02.03.1998
Song language: English
Pymp Tyte |
| Pymp Tyte be the shit, nigga fuck the others |
| When it comes to pimping this game, call us the Parker Brothers |
| We be stealing niggas hoes, slamming them Cadillac do’s |
| Putting that snort to my nose, and watch my brain get froze |
| Smoking Mo’s rolling bowl, and got that lean for sale |
| Bringing pounds down to church, and watch them hoes go for twelve |
| My heart’s pimp-facted, pumping that pimping in my veins |
| Eyes red like that fire, thin like some hair strings |
| Singing clearer than a c.d., making a weak track right |
| (I'm Mr. Pymp Style) Tyte Eyez my nigga, that’s why we Pymp Tyte |
| Bent flows from Louisiana, lay my head down in Texas |
| No horses just Lexus, fine women with big breastes |
| Never been a buster, but I bust up competition |
| Learn to hustle from the best, same game in repetition |
| Own a lot of hoes, cause I’m a pimp of the click |
| Broads causes of my temper, known to bomb on a bitch |
| Smoke my lil' weed, catch a breeze off the water |
| Southside baller, flipping ki’s like a quarter |
| Hooked up with franchise, so watch a nigga take flight |
| With nan leak in the game, cause we mob Pymp Tyte |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Knock on wood twice, for the dranks dim the lights |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Pymp Tyte’s getting it crunk tonight, whaaat |
| Now I recall when I was small, being played like a wimp |
| It just took a little time, for me to feel the pimp |
| In my bones grip my tone, them hollow tips get hot |
| And I’ll bet none of y’all niggas, try that shit right now |
| Feeling so tight bout to take flight, in my drop candy Coupe |
| Niggas get nervous in my presence, cause I’m known to shoot |
| Your blood be soaking, for thinking I’m joking like Richard Pryor |
| Fucking with me, you’d rather wipe your ass with barbwire |
| I got them birds chirping from niggas working, best believe I ain’t hurting |
| If they fuck with my stash, I’m splitting wigs like a surgeon |
| Hit the switch in my shit, watch me jump like a trekker |
| Gotta gloss till I get these diamonds, sparkling like reflectors |
| I know a bitch in Lamar, and his name is |
| Suck so much dick, till his lips get swollen |
| Dribbling balls in your jaws, not on the court you ain’t hooping |
| Now 25 wanna stay alive, better stick to them bricks you be shooting |
| Creased down from head to toe, step in Marabous |
| Nigga don’t even know me, tal’n bout he wanna throw |
| You don’t want none of me, boy I roll with a mob |
| I got niggas on my team, that just fiend to squab |
| Smoking pounds snorting lines, fucking minds I’m so scandalous |
| Leave the balling to the pro’s, and work more on your rock handle this |
| Stacking cream in my safe, frequent trips to Bahammas |
| Got a bitch from Louisiana, looking like Pochahantas |
| Pimp virus in my blood, my click is sick like the flu |
| Making your bitch treat me special, like a St. Ides brew |
| When they call us big pimp shit, they labeled us right |
| Bitches shaking they money maker, keeping my game Pymp Tyte |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Knock on wood twice, for the dranks dim the lights |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Pymp Tyte’s getting it crunk tonight, whaaat |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Knock on wood twice, for the dranks dim the lights |
| (Pymp Tyte, Pymp Tyte) |
| Pymp Tyte’s getting it crunk tonight, whaaat |
| Pymp Tyte |