Jay-Z - Big Pimpin' f. UGK | Текст песни

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• Jay-Z
• Big Pimpin' f. UGK

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[Verse 1]
You know I, thug 'em, fuck 'em, love 'em, leave 'em
Cause I don't fuckin' need 'em
Take 'em out the hood, keep 'em looking good
But I don't fuckin feed 'em
First time they fuss I'm breezing
Talking 'bout, "What's the reasons?"
I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch
Better trust and believe 'em
In the cut where I keep 'em
'til I need a nutt, 'til I need to beat the guts
Then it's "beep beep" and I'm picking them up
Let 'em play with the dick in the truck
Many chicks wanna put Jigga's fists in cuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head, I'mma break bread
So you can be living it up?
Shit, I part with nothing, y'all be fronting
Me give my heart to a woman?
Not for nothing, never happen
I'll be forever macking
Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion
I got no patience
And I hate waiting
Ho get your ass in and let's ride

[Hook]
We doing: big pimpin, we spending cheese (Check 'em out now)
Big pimpin on B.L.A.D.'s
We doing big pimpin up in N.Y.C
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B

[Verse 2: Bun B]
Nigga it's the big Southern rap impresario
Coming straight up out the black barrio
Makes a mill' up off a sorry ho
Then sit back and peep my sce-nahr-i-o
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario
No I can't fuck a scary ho
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go
Hoes start pointing - they say, "There he go!"
Now these motherfuckers know we carry more heat than a little bit
We don't pull it out over little shit
And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit
Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up your vocab
Don't be surprised if your ho stab out with me
And you see us coming down on your SLAB
Living ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it
But nigga if you hating I
Then you wait while I get your bitch butt-naked. Just break it
You gotta pay like you weigh: wet with two pairs of clothes on
Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flying to the track
Timbaland let me spit my prose on
Pump it up in the pro-zone
That's the track that we breaking these hoes on
Ain't the track that we flow's on
But when shit get hot, then the Glock start popping like ozone
We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man
For real, it don't get no bigger man
Don't trip, let's flip, getting throwed on the flip
Getting blowed with the motherfuckin' Jigga Man, fool

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Pimp C]
Smoking out, pouring up, keeping lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all
If I wasn't rapping baby, I would still be riding Mercedes
Chroming, shining, sipping daily, no rest until whitey pay me
Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys
Coming down in candied toys, smoking weed and talking noise

[Hook]

[Alt. Verse]
On the canopy, my stamina be, enough for Pamela Anderson Lee
MTV jam of the week
Made my money quick then back to the streets but
Still sitting on blades... sipping that ray
Standing on the corner of my block hustling
Still getting that cane
Half what I paid slipping right through customs
It'll sell by night its egg shell white
I got so many grams if the man find out
It will land me in jail for life
But I'm still big pimping, spending chesse
With B.U.N. B, Pimp C, and Timothy
We got bitches in the back of the truck, laughing it up
Jigga Man: that's what's up