| I’ma pimp this ho, man
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| ATL Jacob
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| My ho, man, had to pimp my next bitch
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| Mhm
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| That boy Cassius
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| Ayy
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| Shouts out to my old ho, I had to pimp my next bitch
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| Cooked up on my old stove, hittin' it wit my left wrist
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| Stretch it, James Harden, I’m fresh at every press
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| Switch up on my bomb, got me juggin' with the Mexicans
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| Sackin' up like it groceries, the mops out like custodians
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| I’ma backdoor the bitch like Jodie, I’ma flex on the ho with the Rollie
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| Want smoke? |
| Ridin' 'round with the smoke pole
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| Back to back, jump out them four-doors
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| My shooters on boot and the Quaalude
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| I’ma pull up and do it today
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| I already know how we playin'
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| We cook up in pots and pans
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| I load up a bop with Xans
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| I send 'em on my command
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| We flippin' and juggin' the strand
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| In the bucket, a buck with the gas
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| Fuckin' a thot with the bands
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| The pointers on top of my Rolly
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| Hold on, ho, fuck is you sayin'? |
| Cut my stove on
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| Pull up on me, lil' bitch, all my dough gone
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| Come kick my styrofoam, cuff that ho like Don Juan
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| Cookin' the dope with my left arm
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| 40-Glock gon' get you stepped on
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| I’m sippin' the deuce in the Jones
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| Sixty pointers in the stones
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| VV’s, they jump out the charm
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| She suckin' me, give me the dome
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| I play Russian roulette with the chrome
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| She put coke on her tongue and her gums
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| She wake up and traffic the bomb
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| I’m Osama bin Laden with them guns
|
| Shouts out to my old ho, I had to pimp my next bitch
|
| Cooked up on my old stove, hittin' it wit my left wrist
|
| Stretch it, James Harden, I’m fresh at every press
|
| Switch up on my bomb, got me juggin' with the Mexicans
|
| Sackin' up like it groceries, the mops out like custodians
|
| I’ma backdoor the bitch like Jodie, I’ma flex on the ho with the Rollie
|
| Want smoke? |
| Ridin' 'round with the smoke pole
|
| Back to back, jump out them four-doors
|
| My shooters on boot and the Quaalude
|
| I’ma pull up and do it today
|
| My shooters on boot and the Quaalude
|
| Banana clip, thirty with hollows
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| Chop a brick like a Nakato, yeah
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| Sippin' that Ecat Moscato, yeah
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| Forgi crawlin' through the pothole
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| How much dope can your lil' pot hold?
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| Colombian print at the Scotty nose
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| We slicin' the pizza like Azio’s
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| Workin' the bitch out her pantyhose
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| Twenty-one bag of the indo (Gas)
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| Gusher, buster, sippin' on 'Tussin
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| Thirty-eight slow, might be restin', yeah
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| Run up my number like Dutchie
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| Pop out the roof while you clutchin'
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| Add a dick in the drum just like fuck it
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| Let the stick come and cut you like churches
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| Yeah, them hammers got turbulence
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| She bring it back tucked in her girdle
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| I only fuck her when she fertile
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| I re-rock a brick with the Gerber
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| I’m sippin' on lean, I’m servin'
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| I go scuba divin' for the sherbert
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| Make and break, a new face on the shirt
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| Break your knees and your heels when you work, work that bitch
|
| Shouts out to my old ho, I had to pimp my next bitch
|
| Cooked up on my old stove, hittin' it wit my left wrist
|
| Stretch it, James Harden, I’m fresh at every press
|
| Switch up on my bomb, got me juggin' with the Mexicans
|
| Sackin' up like it groceries, the mops out like custodians
|
| I’ma backdoor the bitch like Jodie, I’ma flex on the ho with the Rollie
|
| Want smoke? |
| Ridin' 'round with the smoke pole
|
| Back to back, jump out them four-doors
|
| My shooters on boot and the Quaalude
|
| I’ma pull up and do it today (Now) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song James Harden, artist - Pee Wee Longway. Album song State of the Art, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп