| Yo, all these niggaz out here wanna pimp now, man
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| They done see Bishop Magic Juan
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| They done watch Pimps Up, Hoes Down
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| Niggaz wanna ask me, stop me in traffic asking me questions and shit
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| Man, that’s shit!
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| I pimp a bitch into a brick wall, test my game
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| You niggaz wanna get gangster, gonna test my aim
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| If your bitches outta pocket, got yourself to blame
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| Cause I’m a motherfucking pimp, Iceberg’s the name
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| I mack a bitch into a coma with I roll up on her
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| Get my brain up in her my brain, make her hook and love the corner
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| Lot of y’all niggaz claim to kick it, but you’re weak to me
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| So you chillie ass pimps, don’t even speak to me
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| Known to be the coldest nigga, Cadillac track mack
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| Smack the fucking whore unconscious if my trap ain’t fat
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| Whoring is from the hip, pimping is from the lip
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| So nigga grab your dick and chop some fucking game of a bitch
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| And stop stopping me in traffic, asking how I do it
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| The pimp game is in my blood, nigga, thought you knew it
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| You ain’t cutting like this nigga, let me tell you why!
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| I asked God to let me pimp or let me die!
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| Pimp or die
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| I knocked fifty whores last week, twenty fell off
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| I pimped hard on the last thirty, twenty went soft
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| I left ten down the reign, but only one was true
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| And I still got more bitches than you, Pimp or die!
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| This ain’t no game for lames nigga
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| Grab your bitch, take her off and marry her
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| Kid, this game’ll bury ya
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| Call the bitch, hit the track, some pimp took her
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| You can’t control a girl friend, more less a hooker
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| Stop reading Pimp books, square up, get a job
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| Sell dope, steal cars, get a gun, rob
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| You’re just a fan of pimping, and it ain’t all good
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| You’re playing a minute you’re goffen, I’m. |
| Tiger woods;
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| Ain’t no fair lane, you want a fair game, play cards baby
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| Pimping ain’t easy, but whoring ain’t hard
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| Dear God I break a trick, quick for those that know
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| The only bitches that I fuck with, are those that whores
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| I got the brand new Ros', then throw you the keys
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| I ride Satechi-Ro at thirty two degrees
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| Nigga, you duck and run, faggot, I cock and squeeze
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| And about the dough I blow, it’s like it grow on trees
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| You’re talking lay away, I’m talking Corté
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| You make a bitch your wife, I charge a bitch the day
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| And every whore I know, do what the fuck I say
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| Cause I’m a fucking pimp, nigga, you’re fucking play
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| First of, there ain’t no crash course in this game
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| In case you didn’t hear me first time, Berg’s the name
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| Before you start, you gotta have a cold heart and colder dick
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| All you wanna do is fuck, you was a straight trick
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| Stand on a bitch, break your hand on a bitch
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| Grind for your grip, except no shit
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| Get your gear tight player, learn to act polite
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| Get in the whore’s head, fuck the bitch, you’re after the bread
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| Soothe it out pimp, mack with finesse and shawn
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| And pretty soon you’ll have hookers hanging over your arms
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| But the game is played in dark streets, gators and concrete
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| Your tracks lock is amaze, pimps sleave daze
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| Whores run away, set you up to die
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| But you wanted to live the life cause you did it this fly
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| The pimp game is the moving target and you ain’t that steady
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| Stay the fuck off the track, pussy you ain’t ready |