Partners-n-crime

Partners-n-crime - Pimp'en the Scene songtekst

Je score:

[First Verse: Kangol Slim]

Picture me peelin' out in a Deville Lac

The Deville I'm peelin' out in is bustin' crushin'

Diamonds ain't no thang

Check out the ice on my fist

Cardier wear flexin' on the wrist

And my niggas makin' money like they supposed to

The front seat of my Lac, feels just like a La-Z-Boy sofa

I'm stackin' paper I'm makin'

I'm makin' paper I'm stackin', these hatin' niggas tryin' to do a jackin'

But I'm decappin', the first nigga I see

If I feel he's gonna do some harm to me

Protectin' me, by any means necessary

In New Orleans, niggas killin' for less than a G

That's why it be, just me and my P-N-C

Straight screamin' seventeen til' I D-I-E

Givin' all playa haters the blues it's a shame

What they do to that poor alligator to make our shoes

We pimpin' the scene



[Chorus: x2]

I'm movin' in my ride

(Do you wanna ride?)

My hats tilt to the side

(Side to Side)

Ridin' with a Gangsta Lean

You know a nigga pimpin' the scene

(A nigga pimpin' the scene)



[Second Verse: Misdemeanor]

See I be, pimpin' the scene cuz lil' red from the South

Got that accent, plus I got them slugs in my mouth

Ain't no sellin' out, boot niggas, love to shoot niggas

Better recruit niggas

We crackin' domes and splittin' vests niggas

I see you grabbin' yo lady cuz she lookin' at me shady

You must have seen that Devilish grin, that your girl gave me

She slipped the number in, passed it to her girlfriend

She gave me eyes again, her and her so-called friend

I got'z to do them in, both of them broads gotta be done

And I ain't doin' this shit for reppin', it's just for fun

That's how it's done, on the one, then I'm on the run

I play this game here for real and that's the way it come



[Chorus]



[Third Verse: Kangol Slim]

Check it

This goes out to all my niggas, who ain't got it

And to all my real niggas, who bout it bout it

If you ain't got a clean ride, muthafuck it

Still pimp the scene if you ridin' in a bucket

I ain't even gonna make it look like the finer things don't get props

Cuz every living motherfucka got 'em

So I don't give a fuck 

If you ridin' in a Olds Cutlass or an Expedition truck

Put it on the Neutral ground and bump the sounds, let your shit straight floss

Rev the engine up, show them bitches you got dual exhaust

It pays the cost to be the boss where I'm from

Niggas scared of the gun, scared to go out, and have a lil' fun

But not me, I'm gone continue to pop bottles of wine

Keep my diamonds on shine in the nine

For the nigga tryin' to take mine

I never know when my day gone come, but until then

I'm down in New Orleans, know what I mean?  Pimpin' the scene



[Chorus x3]
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Taal: Engels

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