soulja slim – slim pimpin’ lyrics
[soulja slim]
yep, i need a top boss b-tch in my factory, ya heard me, my boss b-tch
they say dat we was of tha same kind & ain’t lyin’
but at dat time i did sh-t to f-ck ya like you was mine
turn tha ghetto b-tch boss & let her floss
it don’t make dollars it don’t make sense dat p-ssy cost
break it off & when you get it brang it to me
split it down tha middle, you get 2 i get 3
i wouldn’t call it pimpin’, they thank pimpin’ played out
still tha same cept soulja slim sh-t layed out
put cha on your feet to keep ya neat, n-gg- speak
not only dat she make a n-gg- wanna eat
n-gg- tweak for a big booty & a smile
might hurt me later on but don’t hurt now
sendin’ good p-ssy on this mission to f-ck this faker
figure maker, perpatraitor, a soulja hater
thank he boss cause he f-ckin’ my ghetto hoe
but i’m off in his baby momma & tha n-gg- never know
an i’m slick side d-gg-n’ it at random
met her at bayou cl-ssic, when southern played gramblin’
she was pushin’ yo expedition, tell me if i’m wrong?
tha b-tch tinted, grill fitted, sittin’ on chrome
followed me home in yo sh-t, tore tha p-ssy up
bust a nut, left a soulja rag in tha truck
remember dat, dat was me, actually
i did it on g-p for tha dog n-gg- up in me
[chorus 2x: soulja slim]
all hoes get layed, boss b-tches get paid
i see somethin’ in ya, we can blow up like tha world trade
slang dat -ss, make dat cash, brang it back to me
you be tha top boss b-tch up in my factory
[soulja slim]
now back to my hoe i lie to, said i die for,
my whole life i thank i cried enough
still hype enough to keep my paper steady comin’
heads up, where they at? i hear ’em drummin’
i’m hotter than tha gun dat killed martin luther king
that why tha f-ck i can’t floss on narizen
dat light green sticky sticky got my vision blurry
head buried underground, feel like i smoked a pound
shake down, give it up, drop it like it’s hot
me & tha bossalinie close & open up shop
it’s understood dat you ain’t nothin’ but my boss b-tch
double cross me get cha head knocked off b-tch
to tha river ya go buck naked wit out no clothes
bullet lodged to ya dome, bust open -sshole
disrespect tha code get ya self f-cked over
got cha pysched all tha way out there behind soulja
i played them hoes, i’m a cold blooded -ss n-gg-
i done it to ya girl, look here don’t get mad n-gg-
i done dat bad n-gg- but f-ck you know what’s happ’n
i lay ya down, i’m a dog here besides rappin’
[chorus]
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