Lyrics:
Fucking that hoe and I'm pulling her tracks All I do is smoke weed, I been moving them p's Yea I be moving them p's (yea yea) Don kel the fucking mac (da
haired genius play So you can keep your fiddle and your bow Give me a P I A N O, oh, oh I love to stop right beside an upright Or a high toned Baby Grand
Cut off his dreads, heard they did it in the middle of the street I made him famous, R.I.P., I put that boy on TV 11 Alive, Fox 5, Channel 2, BET Why
Born to win Look around From the projects to the penthouse Our vision never changed, we self made Count that up Self made self paid man P-I
the Beamer (oh-oh) I put that girl in a P1 (oh-oh) She make a mess then she clean up (oh yeah) She call her friend, her name Tina I turn that shit
gon' need it homemade I be coming home late, bad bitch, long face She do every single thing but rub me the wrong way 96 Don P, I have that with Corn
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy I'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah P1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah Milli point two just to hurt you, ah
on And made a lot of hot songs Do you think I'm a P.I.M.P In a sl5 halle berry colors scoop me Groupies and gucci you know you can't exclude me Ladies get
that's the corner he on, P-I-M-P on She a freak of the week, I'm teachin' niggas how to eat 'Cause I'm deep in the streets Look, don't get it fucked up
D-O double G, hoes with double Ds, in line to double D Twistin' up the old G, about a whole P, until I O.D. The one they all wanna come and see, hoes
Now I'm the king of the swingers, the jungle V.I.P I reached the top and had to stop And that's what's bothering me I want to be a man, man-cub,
my pockets say stop Not 'cause they empty I'm just greedy for some mo' I need some mo' dough I'm a P.I.M.P. fo' sho' [Chorus] Well its
fry it in a pan Pacman, in no time you will be buying land Pacman, do it for your mom and them Pacman, until I get one hundred in It's P I double
top sun shade Gotta be fly, P1, nigga, spent about five, condo high in the sky G4 whenever, fly in any weather Had to pop a few pussies that was bad
money, we ain't learn how to act All in the V.I.P. spendin' four or five stacks You can tell it's T.I.P. from how I bend my hat Send the waitress
to hear from you soon P.S. I'm still not over you (Still not over you) you yeah Excuse me, I really didn't mean to ramble on But there's a lot
One: Master P One time chaesd me they couldn't take we my baby momma 2 kids couldn't braek me so I weat to the club and met Nena have you
bounce (Man) Bounce bounce (Man) Bounce bounce [Hook 1:] Are you a P-I-M-P? But can't no nigga put the pimpin' like me I get em up get em up (up)
Welcome to my world nigga, and its V.I.P. And the bitches and the bud for free Welcome to this world that you never thought existed And you got to be
of a rapper at all But check this out I'm a put this P.I. down to you real small I mean I got to get this money I'm out here hanging with my homeboys We do what
it's going down like greatly Stick yo good to my whole team, Then leave it up like mayweather In the V.I.P., I pop 100D That's Juicy J and this pappy
say to me, last nigga got outta pocket got rocked in the face Yeah, I got my bands all in order Five hundred P's, I can handle the order, uh I worked
S-P-I-see-E. (*Spice-1*) Yeah smell me, yo five albums in the game, 500 Benzo in my name, five niggaz in a bucket, five zig-zags to the brain,
kill him for no reason What?, push to start, bitch This car got no keys on Yeah, got no heart, bitch I gotta get these P's on Bitch, I gotta get these
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