Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pimps, Playaz, Hustlers, artist - T-PopDate of issue: 01.09.2003
Song language: English
Pimps, Playaz, Hustlers |
| We some pimps, playas, hustlers and FED duckers |
| Gorilla thug niggas, considered some head busters |
| Equipped with a vest, if ever the lead touch us |
| And these hoes wanna fuck us, cause we shine like clusters |
| Tre-eight with no hammer, nigga aim and squeeze |
| Long as it’s one in the chamber, then these haters won’t breathe |
| Keep it gangsta, give you the definition of thug |
| Niggas with hate in they blood, getting eight in they mug |
| If the glove on fire, let the bitch niggas burn |
| If they ain’t tal’n bout dollars, it don’t make sense to be concerned |
| I know it’s a dirty world, but it’s still gon turn |
| And I ain’t roll a spliff perfect, but it’s still gon burn |
| If you ain’t know, your bitch ass better learn |
| Bub spit shit, that burn like bad perms |
| More hooks than a tackle box, got it mastered like pad locks |
| Strapped with Glocks, knocking bitch niggas up out they socks |
| I enter the do', my thug niggas put they sets in the wind |
| It’s that Dead End veteran, again |
| I’m never caught, dipping in a Lex or a Benz |
| This young Don in a Bentley, mash the throttle off jelly it’s in me |
| I’m wired up, leave the club scene fired up |
| Big Bub in the parking lot, ripping the tires up |
| Front back side to side, breaking em off |
| With half cess for the stress, potent fo' for the cough |
| Dub-tre's how you catch me, so come and scream at me |
| The foreign bullet proof, no sense in pointing beams at me |
| I’m a gangsta nigga, off the chain |
| Fo'-fifth out the holster, with a marksman aim |
| Equipped with game, in a six we’ll jump in a nigga mix |
| With some shit around my waist, that drop niggas like bumper kits |
| Night Tyson infra lights, on my nine |
| 24/7 3−65, on my grind |
| You got pimps playas, hustlers we on grind |
| Whatever it take, young nigga we gon shine |
| Get paper, because that’s all I know |
| Bleed the block ery’day, plus I’m sick of this dro |
| 20 inches sit to the flo', so she’s watching me |
| Move a G to a ki', ain’t no stopping me |
| Situations get critical, when your funds get low |
| Niggas claiming they your homies, but still leaving you solo |
| I’m rolling this bolo, and blowing it in the air |
| Life is hard, but sometime it’s fair |
| A young devanare, you got to feel these boys |
| Money by the tons, you better believe these boys |
| I’m a pimp playa, hogg and hustler |
| Bitches they wanna fuck us, and niggas they wanna buck us |
| Up in the hood, I’m a known FED ducker |
| Brick shifter, keep planes trains and even truckers |
| Step in the club, getting sloppy off Hypno |
| Miss me when I’m tipsy, gone off X-O |
| Got my 20/20's speeding, then on the next hoe |
| Look how she flex on the flo', and drop it so low |
| Ever seen a watch glow, like Indiglow |
| 24's still spinning, up under the dirt road |
| Baby girl you in the presence, of nothing but game running |
| I ain’t been out a month, and I’m already stunting come on |