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(Baby) |
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Ladies and Gentlemen, this young man is the author of the book |
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Pimps are people too |
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He is also the president of guns, bitches, and automobiles |
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He also controls all the seafood trade |
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He got, the skrimps, the lobsters, the primes |
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The selmon, the little selmon, the big selmen |
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The sardines, the cardads, and all that |
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Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and give a warm welcome |
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To Jay fizzle, my nizzle, fo shizzle |
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(Turn up J. Fizzle's microphone) |
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(Jazze Pha - in backround) |
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Tell me why, why, is it soo |
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That I'm soo-oh, ice cold (ice cold) |
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Tell me why, why, is it soo |
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That I'm soo-oh, ice cold |
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(Verse 1) |
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(Baby) |
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Stunner and T Kizzie, thats so icey |
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Mommy gave me rangs on the back of my bikey |
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I got the mink coat for wifey, wifey |
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Icey icey, my wifey wifey |
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(TQ) |
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They should have named me Dr. Freeze |
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Cause I'm the coldest nigga y'all done seen |
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The day that rap met r&b |
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Got the birdman, Jazze, and me |
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(Baby) |
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Ay, ay, see I'm so icey, my life so cool |
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So so icey, the boys a fool |
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Ice from iceman, I ice my boo |
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Iced all over, from my head to her shoe |
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(TQ) |
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Ice in the mail from Jacob boo |
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I got a million dollar prala seat behind ya too |
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It's million dollar mob thats behind me boo |
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Now watch what the f**k I do |
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(Wipe em down, wipe em down, biatch) |
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(Chorus - Jazze Pha) |
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Tell me why, why, (whyyy) is it soo (is it soo) |
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That I'm soo-oh, ice cold (so ice cold) |
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Tell me why, why, is it soo, (tell me whyyy) soo |
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That I'm soo-oh, ice cold |
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(Verse 2) |
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(Baby) |
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Ay, ay, T Kizzie, r&b round |
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I put ice on my mom, and my sister too |
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It's mister icey icey, in the burgendy coupe |
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(TQ) |
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I'd ice my grand-daddy, if he still was here |
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On the white-wall tires, with them white-wall rims |
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(Baby) |
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The million dollar ice, ice pumped up boots |
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I got ice all over, with the million dollar shoes |
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(TQ) |
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Look at iced up dro back, iced up me |
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Watch #18 as he kill the cit-ty |
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(Baby) |
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Put ice on my benz, on the 20 inch rims |
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And I ice my lens with the burberry tims |
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I got ice on my wrist, too cold to melt |
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Pinky ring, icey icey, in a bird nest |
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(TQ) |
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I'm from the ice clique, we unexplainably rich |
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Whole lot of hits, whole lot of chips |
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C-O the birdman, whole lot of bricks |
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Put it all together, thats a whole lot of shit |
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(Chrous - Jazze Pha) |
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(Verse 3) |
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(Baby) |
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Ay, ay, T Kizzie, big pimpin |
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I got million dollar game, with as fly as freak |
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Princess, bigness, ice on my teeth |
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Round shape, we shape, my shit is a fool |
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I got 15 karats, icey ice my boo |
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(TQ) |
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Went to the corner, you can see me |
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I'm in the ice cold six four, smokin dro |
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Ballin nice and e-z, ss that I bought from fresh |
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With the Cali license plate that read L.A. is best |
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(Baby) |
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Big Wop is iced out, and Ceedi iced out |
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Tiny-toe, big g, my rounds iced out |
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And Exey icey hot, and busy is too |
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We get money, spit ice, and wear gucci suits |
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(TQ) |
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Let me tell you bout what we are, is what we are |
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Ice cold money makin, see ya marra |
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And we gon keep ballin til they close the bar |
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And do the same damn thing tomarra |
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Oh yeah, oh yeah |
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(Chorus - Jazze pha) |
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Fo sho nigga, y'all know who want this ice shit |
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For this game nigga, it ain't no secret |
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See ya morra for life nigga |
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My whole crew shinnin nigga |
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Busy, birdman, third world magnolia, biatch |
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Say T Queezie, your too hot for me pimpin |
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See you stunnin, and you talk enough shit to make a cripple man walk |
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I'm a tell you like this dog |
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See Jimmy you holdin down back there nigga, keep your head up |
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Say Elton, you still one of the hottest niggas out there nigga |
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You aint front at all nigga, keep ya head up, biatch |
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My brothers in this shit ya heard me, biatch, biatch |
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Brrrrrrrrrrrrr, brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr |
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Birdcall motherf**ker, birdcall motherf**ker |
