MC Eiht

MC Eiht - Kind of Pimpish songtekst

Je score:

Come on y'all, hey

And this how we gon' do it



How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish

Ho's get down like you live you know the business

How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish

Ho's get down like you live...



Nigga better check yourself before you think about fuckin' with these

Muthafuckas always makin' the cheese

187's for the triggers we squeeze

Fool please, like a bitch

Drop to your knees

Be the bad-ass fool in the game

All the ho's be scream my name

Throwin' that ass, it's a damn shame

Must the game

So a nigga be bringin' the pain

Ho's 

Still stand too tall and never fallin' 

Player haters perpetrate

Standin' too close because we ballin'

No competition

But they wishin' they could dodge 5-0

Lay back in the cut 

Get sucked and fucked 

By a gang of hoodrat ho's

Thought you knew 

The way we bring it to you it's on the real

From the days of wayback packin' my strap 

On the West Side of the hill

Always chill with a gang of ho's

Cluck cluck pesos everyday

Be the bomb, show you love

So all the skirts head my way

P-A-I-D, no T-L-C

Hell no, we never beg

Take the dick down your throat

Don't choke and open up them legs

Nuff said

Presidents dead cause you know 

That be's the business

Get down like you live cause y'all check it, what what is this



How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish

Ho's get down like you live you know the business

How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish

Ho's get down like you live you know the business

How you likin' me now, hey

How you likin' me now, uh, geah one two

How you likin' me now, geah, hey, geah



I know the story's all the same

But the names have changed so y'all can peeps my mission

Nigga gone off the weed

Tryin' to feed with speed and take my damn position

Get my buck on, watch a nigga get the fuck on

While he stabbin'

I'm laughin'

My nigga just got his duck on

Lovin' it so it must be right can't be wrong

With a pocket full of stones

Rib bones and greenery, that's blown

Home grown, watch your tone

Homeboy you can't be from round here

Westside 'bout it 'bout it, we blowin' chronic all year

No fear

For all the niggas and bitches in short skirts

Don't fuck around, represent the town, nobody gon' get hurt

More work, birds fly with ease, steady cluckin' cheese, you know?

And y'all can't fuck around cause we dodge from 5-0

If you knew

Then I guess its your time to straight go

While you layin' in the ground, I creep around and fuck your ho'

I thought you knew

About this time

We gotta get money

I gotta get mine



Chorus...



Hey

Come on y'all

Half Ounce in the house one time

Come on y'all, hey

X-fact's in the house two times

Come on y'all, hey

How you likin' us now, geah
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Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

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