Pimpin' Aint No Illusion - Chopped & Screwed Version
Quelle: Spotify
[Intro: Pimp C]
One time for yo' muthafuckin back bitch
Kool Ace, UGK
[Hook: Pimp C]
Pimpin' ain't no illusion
And pimpin' ain't never died
Mo' pimps was on that heroin
And yo' pimp tripped out on that fry
The dikes done came through
And straight threw off all the game;
Got all these hoes thinkin'
They could manage they own change
[Verse 1: Kool Ace]
But it ain't no illusion
I know you all have witnessed
He rollin' in my Caddy mo'
Wit' fly bitches
Makin' ole deals: Now, ho
Ain't Bob Barker
But I'm caught up in this game
More like Peter Parker
P-I-M-P, take the P's that I am
I want you payin' hoes in my army
Like Uncle Sam
And we gon' jam
I'm talkin' 'bout the world greatest show
I know my shit is extreme
But I'm all about them does
When I'm steppin' on the scene
Be there four deep, hella clean
My reality is your favorite dream
(Stop that shit, daddy)
Best believe Kool Ace gon' keep it real
Pimp C & Bun B to testify for the ear
Excuse me, y'all, but this about Southern shit
Now, tell me can you uh, feel this, bitch?
We givin' 'em brain contusions
Pimp C, what's the conclusion?
(Pimpin' ain't no illusion)
[Hook x2]
[Verse 2: Pimp C]
Pimpin' ain't dead...nigga, it just began
(How the fuck you know Sweet Jones?)
My hoes still out there sellin' ass
Yo' bitch is out of pocket
Cause yo' pimpin' was scary;
Real hoes gon' front on a simp
But she gon' do it for daddy
Fuck niggas watch The Mack and try to pimp on my floozie;
But, boy, my bitches know the difference
Between real pimpin' and movies
It's the difference between real leather
And that shit at yo' house
I don't know what y'all doin' up there
But we really pimpin' in the South
Every since I was 17
I been stackin' my green
Went for servin' rocks to fiends
And rockin' club full a teens
Went from bumpin' Screw in Houston
Sippin' promythazine
To ridin' in a 8 600 with sheath
To smokin' on sticky green
I'm still Pimp C, bitch
I'm claimin' P.A., they hate us;
But, me and Kool Ace rollin' a Lexus
Sittin' on all gold Daytons
Bitch, take a look around
Those hoes steady choosin'
This is the conclusion:
Pimpin' ain't no illusion
[Hook x2]
[Verse 3: Bun B]
If you got any love fo' that broad you wit'
Nigga, move her 'fore you lose her
Cause a beggar ain't a muthafuckin' chooser
Third leg is a bitch abuser, infamous
In cities where big pimpin' is my hoes clean
No AIDS, herpies, cyphillis
Come catch a whiff of this
Damn, can't you taste it?
Now yo' money's up in smoke
Like you freebased it
Now bitch replaced it
Wit' a sexual favor
But don't get mad at real pimpin', nigga
Check yo' behavior and savor
The aroma from Promona to Tacoma;
Got my pimpin' diploma for bein' a Cadillac chromer
Fuck a Sonoma
I'm on a mission for Benzes
Knowin' 'xactly where my ends is, ballin' relentless
And then my friends is
Slappin' niggas with glass chins
It's funny sendin' tricks home
Broke and defenseless; and, ever since this
Boy been pimpin' the pen
I promise never to ever leave home
Without my pimpin' again that's why
Chorus: (x2)
[Verse 4: Too $hort]
You know, I got to tell you players what I'm talkin' about
My bitch got bold opened a bank account
When I found the bitch checkbook
I didn't get mad
Cause there was no doubt that I be gettin' the cash
I broke it down to her
She gave me the dough
Do you remember what you was
Before I made you a ho?
You was a broke bitch
You couldn't even smoke shit
Couldn't stay fo-cused
And, don't forget it, bitch
Yo' whole life changed the day you met me
Now you think you need a bank account
Baby, I can't see
You managin' this money, it's too much
All you do is look good
And then you fuck
Git my money, git yo' money
It's all the same
The shit ain't even funny when you talk about this game
They call me Too $hort, baby
I'm still in it
Ain't no camouflage, nuttin' but this real pimpin', bitch
[Hook x3]
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