Pimp C Album

[Intro]
Hold up (hold up bitch)
Sweet Jones in this bitch
P-I-M-P, representin the trill-ass niggaz
Sweet Jones, cuttin you fucker

[Chorus]
I'm a hog in the game [x3]
I got some wet and some round
I'm a hog in the game, I got some wet and some round
I got some white and some syrup, I'm tryin to sew up my town
I'm a..

[Pimp C]
I'm a pig on the streets, I'm a slug in the game
Puttin D on the corner heavies fuck with my name
They call me Sweet James, keep cocaine
Doin 90 in the Benz switchin lane to lane
I'm a candy-mayne, hot like a flame
Your jewelry look funny, that ain't no byzantine chain
Take that monkey watch off, you a bitch to me
You can use my style but you gon' pay me a fee
Cause ain't shit for free, I'm on a poppin spree
Rap-A-Lot mafia life, ain't no stoppin me
They call me Tony Montana because I'm lettin 'em hang
When you see me recognize I'm a hog in the game

[Chorus]

[Pimp C]
Young hog, vicious dog, keep a bad-ass yellow broad
On the slab, in the nab, Chef Boyardee in the lab
Cook it fat, cut it small, fifteen thousand at the mall
Gucci shop, Bally shop, scratch it off, in the drop
2000 C-5, got 3 million from the Jive
You was trickin with my hoes, I was playin with my nose
Comin down, candy gold, nigga y'all was playin the role
Tellin bitches 'bout my past, you can get hit in yo' hat

[x2]
I'm a hog in the game, I got some wet and some round
I got some white and some syrup, I'm tryin to sew up my town

[Chorus]

[Pimp C]
Maybe you was in yo' drop, that's when my boys love to pop
Make his fuckin jelly jump, stepdaddy got hit with a pump
Hit with a pump, it's in my lap at all times nigga
And ain't nuttin for that fuck boy to get hit nigga
Cause y'all niggaz is some motherfuckin hoes
When y'all want your rep I saw your motherfuckin clothes
Your shoes ain't tight and you're phony at your shows
So bend your ass over like a bitch is supposed
I make my fuckin music for the boys with the O's
The old school pros and the strip club hoes
The boys with the hard in the motherfuckin South
Bitch you ain't had a hit since I saw you break 'em out

[x2]
I'm a hog in the game, I got some wet and some round
I got some white and some syrup, I'm tryin to sew up my town

[Chorus]

[No lyrics]

[Intro: sung in Mayfield falsetto]
I stay paid and, I like blades
Old shcool cars and, lovin Maze
I've got hoes (I've got hoes) I can show
Gettin money a-, ridin Rolls (ridin Rolls)
Keep my grind I don't, waste my time
Comin up, gettin down for mines
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh

[Pimp C]
Deep up in the game, ain't no stoppin
I get my money like Johnny 'Guitar' Watson
Pimpin them hoes and put the bitch on the track
And tell the ho to bring all my money back
I wanna holla at that boy Ike Turner
You gotta know it's 'bout the paper and you learn her
About gettin on the corner for your daddy
What love got to do with it, I'm in the Caddy
I got a yellow-ass ho that'll suck you up
That'll blow in yo' butt ain't scared to fuck
And she'll bend over, take it like a G
Because you know the bitch down with Pimp C
I switched my name, to Jack Tripper
Now the hoes tryin to pull down my fuckin zipper
And get to that snake with the cobra head
I got some homeboys doin life in the fed

[Chorus: Mayfield falsetto (Pimp C)]
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh
(See me on the slab, whippin in the Nav', you already know I'm cookin in the lab)
(See me on the slab, whippin in the Nav', you already know I'm cookin in the lab)

[Pimp C]
When I was young, alls I wanted was a 'llac
I used to think them niggaz fiends that was blowin on the weed sack
Cause all I did was cut up cheese
And sell dope and come through with the thang with ease
I used to have, a .25 pistol
But now I got some shit that shoot like a missile
I tuck a AK, HK too bitch
I eat you up I ain't goin for that ho shit
Them other niggaz playin games in the streets
You think it's 'bout bein lame and makin lame beats
We ain't 'bout you and them bitch niggaz
Cause fuck boys, could easily get hit with the trigger
You think you rich? But you a bitch
You see me in the club check my pitch
I'm down with J. Prince bitch, and you know that
When we come through splittin big niggaz hats

[Chorus: Mayfield falsetto (Pimp C)]
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to have it
I'm a hustler baby, and I gots to grab it, ahhh
(I'm whippin in the Nav', comin on the slab, you already know I'm cookin in the lab)
(I'm whippin in the Nav', comin on the slab, you already know I'm cookin in the lab)

[Pimp C]
Twenty-fo' I'm a country star, in a country car
Got a country-ass bitch, sip country bar
Got a country son, got a country chain
Come and got in the car, and grippin country grain
Sweet Jones bitch, Pimp (peeeimp) knahmtalkinbout?
Go out and get that shit
I'm talkin 'bout doin, a million records independently sold, on yo' bitch ass
So when you see me in the city recognize I'm already paid
When you see me choppin on blades, {?} bitch
Not them phony-ass blades with no knockers on 'em
Representin that side, P.A. to B-zay
And ain't no thang to beat a bitch-ass nigga
Ain't no Blood and no Crip, fuck-ass nigga I'm [?]
I told ya, bitch

[ad libs to fade]

(feat. Lil' Flip, Z-Ro)

[Pimp C]
Hold up (Hold Up), we jammin

[Chorus]
I can't let nobody hold me down-these ho's could never hold me (never hold me)
cause I'm comin down, playa surroundin-livin these ho's fantasy
cause I'm choppin'blades and playin maze and these bitches they can't stand it (can't stand it)
Peep up in this game and this thing is so demandin'
I'm comin up (choppin on dubs and showin 'em love)
2000-Fizive and you are not fly enough (young bitch)
Uhhh Hold up young bitch-bitch I just don't wanna stop comin'up

[Verse 1: Pimp C]
Uhhh it's never too much the paper I make
these other pussy niggaz ain't real them ho's fake
I'm Sweet James Jones when you come through bitch
I treat you good because you know I'm rich
I was in the ghetto-had nothin'
sold alot of records and grabbed somethin
now I'm goin through movies in L.A
playin the game the way the hustlers play
and everyday I try to stack my grip and make three songs
I'm tryna get my mothafuckin paper on
I want the new (bone?) and the new cell phone
I want the new two way pager and the new mansion home
in Houston cause that is my city
and them other pussy niggaz they record sound shitty
when I see you in the town I'm a hit you up
you never could take my dream cause you niggaz fucked up

[Chorus]
I can't let nobody hold me down-these ho's could never hold me (never hold me)
cause I'm comin down, playa surroundin-livin these ho's fantasy
cause I'm choppin'blades and playin maze and these bitches they can't stand it (can't stand it)
Peep up in this game and this thing is so demandin'-Comin Up

[Verse 2: Z-Ro]
I remember when I had to come up just to come down
that's the reason for my uncontrollable ballin right now
use to be scared to walk in the store I payed the price now
my life is to valuable for me to play with life now
of course it's gon' be some niggaz who think I done changed
they find me guility just because now I got diamonds on every thing
my mouth and my pinky ring, my wrist and my neck
I'm 'bout my business so give me my cash or give me my check
see I can biblically remember me and Trae on the block
even more then hustlin'sometimes we had to lay on the block
eat, sleep, shit, piss, pray on the block
to make it through the night to see another day on the block
movin rocks got us full pockets-plus knots in our socks
but now money be comin in wadd's like blocks
let's go half on a Yacht-I got the pot you got the chicken fried steak
I can't even hear you haters you've been muted by my paper chase

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lil' Flip]
Who would've known that this rap shit would take me far
at 18 I had a fifty-thousand dollar car
I went from Jag to Benz but not the regular kind
now I'm smokin hydro not the regular pine
I spitt one freestyle now I'm rockin clubs
after "Diamonds N Yo Face" I was coppin dubs
I had to make the transition from a boy to a man
so if you wanna 16 that's forty-grand
rappers talk alot of shit but you ain't stoppin us
look you don't wanna bump heads with a mafia (Huh)
look you don't know shit about UGK
or Mr. Fat Pat and Grey Screw tapes
I rep the Screwed Up Click peep the watch I'm wearin
I'm the first cat in Houston with a black Leclarion
Lil' Flipper tote pistols for them none believers
cause down here we poppin trunks on Cadillacs and Regals (Oh boy)

[Chorus]

[Pimp C]
Peep up in this game and this thing is so demandin'
I'm comin up (choppin on dubs and showin 'em love)
2000-Fizive and you are not fly enough (young bitch)
Uhhh Hold up young bitch-bitch I just don't wanna stop comin'up

(feat. Bun B, Twista & Z-Ro)

[Pimp C:]
Uhh
Hold up
Comin' down
Hold up
Mm
Smoke somethin'

[Verse 1: Pimp C]
Lately he been flippin' and, stayin' on the grind
Tellin' you that you fine, but he ain't spendin' no time
I be pourin' wine, tryin' to, knock out your spine
Make you mine, from behind, to some slowed down "Bump n' Grind"
His thang like a dirty Sweet, from off the street
My thang like a O' of indo, from Sacremento
Lately y'all been monkeyin', he, call you a bitch
Keep me all up in yo' shit, tryina dig you a new ditch
Now I admit, that he rich, and that his money is good
Got my dicked sucked in his 'Six, I'm fuckin' on leather and wood
I'm just a yougin' from the hood, with some dick if ya good
With him, you know that you shouldn't
With me, you know that you should
Go pussy thug, like a glove when I push and I shove
Knock a dime out the climb, cause I ain't makin' love
See yo' man the type of guy, to get jealous and hit'cha
But me, I lick ya where he don't, and suck real hard on yo' nipple
My game is sharp as a cicle, she love my pickle
And if you gave her a dime, nigga she gave me a nickle
So while you thinkin', she done jet, she got my dick on her mind
Keep on neglectin' yo' gal, young Pimp C be spendin' yo' time
Time

[Hook: girl singing]
It's, liike
Sooome-thing's goin' wrong
Something's goin' wrong

Guess, we've
Been apart, too long
Beeeen, aaa-paart

[Verse 2: Bun B]
Well naturally, I have to be, dead serious, maybe not
Let me tell a tale about this broad that thought she played me out
Yes, I was impressed, by the sex in her ass
W-U-I-S her, Versacci, down like Fran, dress her, bless her heart
She was a sweet-tart, but'cha never understood her point in our duo
Talkin' smart with' all that "you know", comin' with' he-say, she-say
From what she heard at the club, bout some chick that I had played on
Well bitch, you should have stayed home
She mad cause I done told her girl off, but the bitch was wrong, and you
You gon' let these messy ho's fuck yo' world off
I tried to love her man, but see love is one thang, and dumb is anotha
Brotha, I'd be dumb to let her run thangs
I should've passed, but I was gassed, super-unleaded
And her nappy-headed ass gon' regret it, remember I said it
Cause I'm, in a sublime, new state and frame of mind
Cause it'd be a crime, for me to waste my time
My time

[Hook:]
It's, liike
Sooome-thing's goin' wrong
Something's goooooin' wrong

Guess, we've
Been apart, too long
Beeeen, aaa-paart

[Verse 3: Twista]
Did you ever think about who's ass ya girl's was
Before the booty had became yours?
If a nigga's sane flows, you know everythang goes
Fuckin' in it til' it's colorful as rainbows
Sportin' furry Kango's, she can't go, rockin' paid shows
Paper hard to fold, plus I roll slick, keep talkin' shit
If you don't like me, it's most like-ly, cause I done holla'd at yo bitch
Why she so thick? Tellin' lies and ya said to be believin' 'em
But I make her feel like "Uh-huh", can you do it? "Uh-huh"
But when I scoup her up, she know that I'm the one to make a slut-cum
Gotta man, he a lame anyway, mother-fuck that stuff
Mad cause I snuck that love, baby don't bust that slug
So go on head roll up that bud, so we can fuck
So wassup? Now we in the Suburb', submerged, watch a movie
Or bumpin' U-G, K shit, scoop a bitch or hit the booty
How the man, yea I knew g, but she don't usually, say shit
Cause the pussy make a motherfucka wanna ball up and cry
Chicka-pow-pow, I love them thighs when I'm rollin' aside
I ain't gon' up and die, like the guy that we got high
Take away more than two hits, two blows
She heard my new shit, it was new clothes
New golds, carefully Herringbones, and cell-phones
But her friend home, now I'm freakin' two ho's
If ya girl be with' me, somethin' nifty, she prob'ly wanna lick me
I'm the Twista, I flame a ho pissy drunk and drippy
Damn skippy, gamin' it from a shot of Mississippi, now pimp on

[Hook: to fade]
It's, liike
Sooome-thing's goin' wrong
Something's goooooin' wrong

Guess, we've
Been apart, too long

I know ya strapped
But you cowards like to play hard
But knowing that you don't wanna catch a murder charge
See niggaz like to get full of dat weed and liquor
Snort a line in you mind now you'se a killa

Sweet Jones Story
Know what I'm talking bout?
P-I-M-P

I know you strapped, but you still a fucking bitch nigga
Ya talkin' bumpkin cause I know you ain't shit nigga
And if you don't shut the fuck up, you'll get hit nigga
And we'll put seven in your stomach through yo Hilfiger
I went to Dallas and some bitches tried to test me
But my nuts too big to let a pussy niggga check me
And I ain't laugh, bitch niggaz don't disrespect me
You shoulda killed me, bitch the first day that you met me

I know ya strapped
But you cowards like to play hard
But knowing that you don't wanna catch a murder charge
See niggaz like to get full of dat weed and liquor
Snort a line in you mind now you a killa

I told you nigga I don't fuck wit no paid route
When I was young that nigga fucked me out some paper dude
But to call him to the studio that wasn't cross
But bitch you almost got your homeboy broke off
Cause Uncle Paul was gonna hit it from the front door
The whole time I had my eyes on this yellow hoe
Tryin' to talk like an O.G., better shut up
Before you get you and your homeboys whipped up

I know ya strapped
But you cowards like to play hard
But knowing that you don't wanna catch a murder charge
See niggaz like to get full of dat weed and liquor
Snort a line in you mind now you a killa

The next night I'm at the kitchen makin' hits and ends
I see some niggaz drivin' funny in a square-like Benz
And showin' nothing but that bitch that put me in the cross
The first line in my mind was to pick him off
I said fuck him let's go do it, yeah let's let him talk
But if that bitch gon' pull his pistol we gon' kill him off
I told that girl what this mafia's like bitch
And if you ever try it it's gon' be repercussions across this bitch

I know ya strapped
But you cowards like to play hard
But knowing that you don't wanna catch a murder charge
See niggaz like to get full of dat weed and liquor
Snort a line in you mind now you a killa

You niggaz week so you call Houston for the hit
But didn't know that we got gangsta niggaz all over this bitch
So now you bitches gotta deal with the King hoe
Cause you done call it three times, we just can't let that go
And to that forty-two pocket and my precious momma
??? its bitches for life you feel the drama
They gon' bring you to the center for that gun-shot drama
You could get hit in your Bentley or your Impala

I know ya strapped [screwed & chopped]
But you cowards like to play hard
But knowing that you don't wanna catch a murder charge
See niggaz like to get full of dat weed and liquor
Snort a line in you mind now you a killa

You ain't no gangsta nigga
Fucker ass nigga
You ain't slappin' nothing here junior
Better get your mind right bitch
Dedicated to all you old stiff daddy ass niggaz

When you… shoulda known not to fuck with me bitch [screwed & chopped]
I'm a put it dead on yo ass when it which
What happenin' my brother?
He was layin' there shaking and bleeding like a mother fucker

All you Tupac-ass wanna-be niggaz
Get your brains blew out on your dashboard bitch
Goin' down
Sweet Jones
Platinum bitch!

[No lyrics]

(feat. Corey Mo)

Quart a Mo' (whas happenin?)
Sweet Jones
I see a lot of niggaz in this rap game man
Niggaz moving too mother fucking fast
Y'all niggaz need to...
Slow down (know what I'm talking bout, hol' up)
Niggaz poppin pills, sippin bar, smoking fry and God knows whatever else
Niggaz on that Malcolm... X
You know like that nigga Breeze said, man the hood gonna catch up with you
man
You know what I'm saying?

[Pimp C]
Peep up in the city with the hoes showing ass and titties
I'm a ghetto star, and the game's a pity
Cause most niggaz get took by the street fame
And they can't hold on to their spot in this dirty game
I see a lot of niggaz sign record deals
But they fall off, cause they niggaz wasn't real
But I've been in this thang since '92
Getting my money, doing what the hustlas do
Through the wars, having no cars
Going to jail, rapping behind bars
Putting it down wit my beat
When we was broke out on the streets
Trying to come up on a motha fucking Swisher Sweet
I used to sell weed, then I sold crack
I used to ride in a old-school gold 'Lac
Fleetwood wit' cherry lights
I sold that bitch to that boy Moe, that's why we come down at night
Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) [repeated]

[Pimp C]
Bitch now I drive a big Benz (big Benz)
And spend big money with my motha fucking hustling friends
I don't buy the O, I buy the quarter-pound
I'm talking Indo nigga, I lay these bitches down
What's happening out in LA, LA
When I'm out there with the Boo-Yaa Tribe
And that's how I play (that's how I play)
And I'm hollerin at Yuk and C-Bo too
I hear whatcha saying and I'm a do what y'all wanna do
Cause fuck niggaz need to get hit up
Bitch niggaz don't deserve no truck
Snitch niggaz don't deserve to fuck
Nigga outta luck
That's why your records ain't selling and ya stuck
You need to slow down before somebody hit you up
You need to slow down before somebody fuck you up
You need to slow down before it comes to get you
Hit you in your wig and ain't nothing to split you
Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) [repeated]

[Corey Mo]
You see this rap game is more than just rhymes and beats
It designed to make money, it starts in the streets
A lotta niggaz don't follow the rules and end up losing
Way before their time, cause their records ain't moving
Better slow down and rethink your strategy nigga
Have you still paying dues, you can't be mad at me nigga
I ain't looking for no handouts or looking for no friends (un-uh)
My brother always told me nigga, go and get your ends
And that's what I'm a do, it's the honest-to-God truth
I'm a stay up on these beats and I'm a stay off in the booth
So all you niggaz hating, waiting for me to fold
I'm bout to shift to another gear and pass you hoes
On the cool, I ain't nobody's goddamn fool
Just like you pack tools, nigga I do too
So in case you never knew nigga, you know now
What you ought to be trying to do is on the real
Is slow down
Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) [repeated]
Hol' up, slow down, uh
Get your mind on your money
Cause your records ain't selling
Nigga [repeated]

[Intro]
(Piiimp!)
Yeah I'ma step up to this mic like Marvin Gaye, y'knahmsayin?
Back up off me like them O'Jays, y'knahmsayin?
Spin on it like the Bar Kays, y'knahmsayin?
Bitch ain't nuttin funny, bitch I ain't Bugs Bunny
Get my money bitch, I mean ho yeah you up under pimp arrest bitch
Y'knahmean? Yeah ho you upstate, you out of pocket bitch
But y'knahmean? Bitch you gotta get my money bitch
You understand it's Pimpin' Ken for the money bitch
We can put it on the dotted line, Houstin time bitch y'knahmean?
Yeah bitch you understand
Let it be Pimpin' Ken for the record and the money y'knahmean?
Yeah bitch I'm out here with Pimp C bitch
Get this motherfuckin money ho
Makin hoes plant their feet on the conrete, ya dig what I'm sayin?
Yeah red hoes who sold out on ho strolls
Doin it every day the American way y'knahmean?
Real motherfuckin pimpin y'knahmean?
Smoked out with this shit y'knahmean?
Yeah bitch it ain't gon' never quit ho
(Piiimp!) Yeah bitch throw it up in the air ho!

[Pimp C]
Sweet Jones, what'chu know about it bitch
Get out there and go get my shit
I ain't got time to save you ho
I ain't got time to play with you ho
You talkin 'bout you wanna be down with me
You need to get some money wanna be with Pimp C
Uhh, cause I'm real to the core
And give a damn 'bout a bitch and I pimp on a whore
You can tell yo' momma, about the drama
You was fuckin for free, befo' you met me
Get your mind on your money, get some big faces
Before you come around here catchin cases
Pimpin, panderin, bitch I'm handlin
paper and cheese, comin down with ease
In a 2001 Benz with the screens
Sippin a big cup of lean, uhh

You gotta get my money bitch
Uhh - get it! Uhh
Bitch get it now!
Make the trick say it feels good, uhh!
You gotta get my money bitch
Uhh - gotta get it, get it, bitch!
Bitch get it now!
Make the trick say it feels good, uhh!

Get my money ho, I ain't playin
Bitch you heard what the fuck I'm sayin
I'll bust you in your eye ho
If you don't get out for the dough
You talkin that shit, you a lazy punk
You need to get out there and pop the trunk
And make the motherfucker see all the cock
And get that money, shake what you got
Sell that pussy ho, suck that dick
Break that trick ho, hit that lick
Get yo' mind up on my grill
Punk-ass bitches, always trill
You a yellow ho, and you a dyke
The type of bitch, that I don't like
You think you come and gon' wreck my stable
I keep a fuckin bitch on a line or cable

You better get my money bitch
Make the trick say it feels good bitch!
Bitch get it now!
Make the trick say it feels good, uhh!
You gotta get my money bitch
Get it, get it, uhh
Bitch get it now!
Make the trick say it feels good, uhh!

[No lyrics]

(feat. Devin the Dude)

[Pimp C]
Aye what you doing?
You was sleep?
Shit I'll be over there in a minute... Yeah Aight

[Pimp C]
You know you like the way that country nigga steady fuckin
I'm getting rich you put yo legs up hit you in the buttin
You know you like the way I hit you off and break you off
I do it good my dick is hard my shit ain't neva soft
And I'm hard as nigga from the streets I get out with the grindin
I'm comin through do shit and rap in double timin
And get my money in the city with them vicious killas
And comin through sippin bar and good old miller
I got them skills
Work the wheel
And I'm staying trill
I got some partnas thatll kill ya in that Nashville
You like they way that dick head feel
When its going in
I even got to flip you with some of my best friends
Its all good cus we family and we love that pussy
We hittin hard and you know we do it like a cookie
A soft batch and bitch you know I make you cum
I'm getting time and everytime you give me some

[Hook:Devin The Dude]
Everytime that I want some of that pussy you come through fa ya boy
Everytime that I want some of that cock
Youll let me stop through and see what it doooo
You know that pussy feels goooood (ha ha ha ha)
You know that pussy feels goooood

[Pimp C]
Do you remember when we was young you use to suck me
Back then you let me finger fuck but ain't really want to fuck me
You was scared of that dick head but now you love to ride it
And love when I hit ya hard the hole open inside it
You already know the game and you know my name
I'm in the club with them thugs and we slang them thangs
We got that caine heroin and that syrup too
And we do all the thangs our mamas told us not to do
You love me anyway I fly out to Las Vegas
You know I'm puttin it down with Jay Chris cus that boys a playa
I'm down with big chicks too
So what them big chicks wan do
When I come through to you
You know its comin screwed
Yo lips the best
I like to bite up on yo breasts
You suck my dick
You do it betta than that bitch
Ever did thats why we might just have some kids
But hats the biz thats how I fucking live

[Hook:Devin The Dude]
Everytime that I want some of that pussy you come through fa ya boy
Everytime that I want some of that cock
Youll let me stop through and see what it doooo
You know that pussy feels goooood (ha ha ha ha)
You know that pussy feels goooood

[Pimp C]
You could get married and maybe have five kids
You could go all over the world and never do what I did
I go from state to state
And I have date to date
I hit them hoes and they never holla they rape
Cus they love to break me off
And they love to blow me off
They love to do me up cus hoes know I ain't soft
They see me at the show you know
You wanna fuck me hoe
You wanna take me to the room and give me some blow
You want that snake with the cobra head fuck the feds
I do it good when I hit ya fuck up the bed
Fuck up yo head give ya fourty dollas get it done
I'm breakin bitches like DMC and Reverend Run
Back in 84 I'm slamming doors And puttin up these hoes
And comin through doin it real cus I'm an Old School Pro
I keep them strap rubbers in a platinum pack
I'm comin thru whippin in the chrome 'Lac

[Hook: Devin The Dude]
Everytime that I want some of that pussy you come through fa ya boy
Everytime that I want some of that cock
Youll let me stop through and see what it doooo
You know that pussy feels goooood (ha ha ha ha)
You know that pussy feels goooood

[No lyrics]

I wanna dedicate this song to my momma
Know what I?m talkin? about?
Happy birthday momma, happy birthday

To all the bullshit niggaz tryin? to kill us, yup
Yeah, you know what I?m sayin? uh?
The false divorces, child support court, that's right, all that

Nigga droppin? out of school you stood by me
Know what I?m talkin? about?
Thank you, goin? to jail

So a lot of motherfuckers be sayin? stars up in the sky
But my star right here, that's my angel
Know what I?m talkin? about? Check this out

I been on top of the world and been on bottom of the grind
I came through in the fresh cars playin? surround
I been in the city sellin? crack at the dope fiends
Tryin? to come up, used to be strung out on promethazine

I used to smoke fry, wasn't scared to die
Every day when I wake up I want to get high
My momma came and got me from that devil dope
And keep me good even though I used to choose hoes

And sometimes with her older family members they lil' bit wrong
But that's how I came up, makin? rap songs
I been in this shit since 16, comin? up
And puttin? motherfuckers up on this thing up in this rap scene

Uh, and when they took my money
Momma never ever looked at me funny, now check it out
The manager I had wasn't shit
The nigga stole everything and snorted coke like a bitch

My momma stepped into this shit and went to every town
That we came to, every city puttin? it down
And when them niggaz wanted to kill me, my momma said
?Fuck that bitch, I know you motherfuckers feel me, uh?

So when you see me in the city with my T lady
Best believe we comin? up and we ain't livin? shady
I'm her baby and that is my only momma
I'll kill you bitch ass niggaz if you brang the drama

I found my angel, angel
That angel is mine, angel
I found my angel, angel
That angel is mine, angel

I was young, I used to get sick a lot
Now I'm rich puttin? it down with Rap-A-Lot
I used to have the flu, colds and pneumonia
Niggaz always tried to come and try to move on ya

?Cause in my city you either got to be a hustler
Or you're out on the corner smokin? crack and a buster
So I had to come up fast
When niggaz come through I put that [Incomprehensible] on his ass

I found my angel, angel
That angel is mine, angel
I found my angel, angel
That angel is mine, angel

[No lyrics]