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