Pimpin’

[Intro: DJ Quik]
Rain, rain, don't go away
Stick around a minute, wash this filthy shit away
Yeah, yeah
Boy, I sure hate doing you niggas like this
But you bitch ass niggas deserve it

[Verse 1: DJ Quik]
Punk, respeconize the OG when I'm playing my game
And if you gon' speak on me, nigga, say my name
'Cause all that talking in codes, hiding, you walking in droves
Gon' have you expendable niggas running, dropping in folds
And you niggas didn't want long hair until I came (Nah)
I was watching Ice-T, nigga, and soaking up the game (Oh yeah)
The belief that I'm standing on, my religion is mack
So Rhythm-al-ism's evil twin brother is back
Fuck hiding your Rolex, nigga, hide your necks, nigga
And your career is almost finished, hide your checks, nigga
You sponsor old hoes that's been used and circulated
When I bust 'em new up off the lot and put 'em to work, you hate it
The fluidest credibility ruining lyricist that there is (All day)
And I'm a straighter shot, nigga, than Rafael Perez
And this rap game, even in my teens, I was cool with it
And I was through with it before y'all figured out what to do with it

[Chorus: (James DeBarge) + DJ Quik]
(Pimpin') Yeah, for better for worse, I'm married to…
(Pimpin') Ha, for richer, for poor, nigga, I'm married to…
(Pimpin') Yeah, and in sickness and health, it's gotta be…
(Pimpin') And the hustle continues… Always

[Verse 2: Playa Hamm]
I eat 'em up like toffee 'cause I'm lovin' sweets
Especially to these G-One and DJ Quik beats
Now what you talkin' 'bout love? We can't have at all
When I slides up in this club and stands tall, you better call
Your homegirls, and tell 'em it's real
Soon as they hit the door, though, they gots to peel
See, 'cause I can't conceal what I feel when it comes to my riches
No glitches in this game and that's right, I clowns bitches
'Cause they ain't specific when it comes to they ways
And I've always been prolific executing these plays
Big G, Darkside, and Suga Free be clever
So what you want and what you think, don't you ever say never
Yeah, I got your little messages, I comprehend
The language that your body be speakin' and I intend
To give you what you coming for, I'm here if it's conducive
To increase the count amounts and exclusive, ya heard

[Chorus: (James DeBarge) + DJ Quik]
(Pimpin') Ha, in sickness and health, it's gotta be…
(Pimpin') Ha ha, for better, for worse, nigga, I'm married to…
(Pimpin') For richer, for poor, for rich, it's gotta be…
(Pimpin') Double M, show 'em what that sack like

[Verse 3: Double M]
So many hoes never willing to donate not a penny
So I counts my portion, and stack my fortune
And if they're thinking of trying and coming and test mine, take mine
And give it the way I make mine, and fonk with the way I rock rhymes
Hoe, you best raise up while I blaze up
Tired of that punk ass behavin' like a vulture or raven
I'm savin', all my money up for a Benz
And a Pontiac so I can bone all of your friends
'Cause this ain't a game show, and I don't pay no hoe
Tryna juice me for my riches, you could sleep with the fishes
At first you wouldn't get with me, but now you wanna come and trick for me
'Cause I'm stacking up G's
I suggest you take an aspirin for your headache
'Cause the shit that I just spit to you gets harder than Salt Lake, hoe
So you can step down that Yellow Brick Road
And leave the pimpin' up to drop a lyric trickin' the hoes

[Chorus: (James DeBarge) + DJ Quik]
(Pimpin') In sickness and health, nigga, I'm married to…
(Pimpin') Yeah, for richer, for poor, nigga, it's gotta be…
(Pimpin') Ha ha, for better, for worse, nigga, I'm married to…
(Pimpin') Suga Free, hit this and let these bitches know what's happenin'

[Verse 4: Suga Free]
You, gotta, believe in me
You see see, I got to act up
With that P-O, oh we he he, herb, al a herb ezerb (Neptune)
She put it sweet on herself, if I'm in traffic with the bitch
And if she ain't the bitch, ha ha, the bitch gon' feel myself
Bitch, you got a closet in your pocket?
'Cause you can hang up that bullshit your lips is movin' about
'Cause, bitch, I ain't gon' jock it
Suga Free gon' give your ass the blues
And I put that on me and the P, trick, and it's gon' hurt like brand new shoes
You said, "Baby, you want something back from the store?"
I said, "Yeah, a can of ackrite, a bag of shut your mouth, and don't come back here like that no more"
And nigga must've said, "Suga Free, you finna buy a brand new Lexus?"
I said, "Yeah, get in, nigga, you and your homie, 'cause I'm finna buy y'all some dresses"
They must've sent me to the pen (Why?)
I drunk some gin and stomped a white bitch completely out her skin
Haters be sayin' shit like, "Suga Free, how you wipe your ass with them long ass nails?"
I said, "The same way groom, slow as hell"
I hit the Caddy switch
Now tell these star-struck peasant wanna-be ass motherfuckers "Who yo' daddy, bitch?"

[Chorus: James DeBarge, Suga Free]
Pimpin'
(Hahahahahaha, ee-ee, Black Tone)
Pimpin'
(Ah-ah, mack or die, ah-ah)
Pimpin'
(Keep the P in it, ah, pimpin')
Pimpin'
(Believe in me)
Pimpin'
(What?)
Pimpin'
(Say season me)
Pimpin'
(Season me, just season me)
Pimpin'
(Season me, got you pimpin' at the motherfuckin' third degree)
Pimpin'
(Record in the sack, like a dime)
Pimpin'
(And she never comin' back, Tony Lane got her)
Pimpin'

[Outro: Suga Free]
Pimp or yay, bitch — bitch, I'll pimp yo' mama