[Hook x2: Johnny P]
Do you wanna ride
In the backseat of a Caddy?
Chop it up with Do or Die
[Verse 1: AK-47]
It was seven double-oh P.M
Fly low to them hoes in the B-M
Sipping Seagram, chewing on a weed stem
Touching on my fo' fif
Move it to the back so I can see who beeping this Po Pimp
Spring to the phone with a slow limp
In a trip that shitted with 3-1-2-7-6-2-10
Three-line connection
As the rest of them wanted affection
Just bring the weed, we got the drinks you need
And, plus, we strapped with two protections
I put the phone in the hook, then I pause for a minute
Cause I forgot where I met the ho
And the feeling I've forgotten if the hoes wanna snap
I straight up check the ho, really doe
To the crib
[Hook x2: Johnny P]
[Verse 2: AK-47, Belo]
Seven deuce five, I ride the point to spot the live hoes
Three miles per hour
Like we running up on some rivals
Never to deny though, these bitches look fly, 'Lo
Introduce myself
A-to-the-motherfucking-K, better recognize
Then I loose myself, juice myself
As you take one pull, uh, pass it to the left and um
Self-centered niggas'll take two pulls cause they thinking about self and um
P-I, M-P, -ology, but logically
We learning these hoes biology, and obviously, well
[Belo]
Mmm, ain't this some shit, pull up in the C-A
D-I, double-L, pumping A-C, A see hoes
They peep those, P-I, M-P, and they think that automatically
Cause he's a pimp, he gotta be full of that
M-O, N-E, but why?
Cause nigga be sporting nice cars and fancy clothes
Fresh jewels, Girbaud, flexing one five oh
Chop up that paper, ho, chop up that paper, ho
Watch where your lips go, caress my tip slow
To the tempo, instrumental
Real simple when you fucking with a pimp, doe
Get involved in the backseat
That's how it be in the Cad when you messing with them young lads
Smoking on that finest grass
Never miss what you never had, at last
P-I, M-P, -ology, but logically
We learning these hoes biology, and obviously, well
[Hook x2: Johnny P]
Verse 3: Tung Twista
Well, a motherfucker might be broke and shit
And then collecting no dough from tips
But I be spitting mo' game than a mouthful of poker chips
To get them hoes with the open lips and the provoking hips
And never gotta tell her many lies
I been looking in the city skies, get up in the kitty's thighs
Cause I'm blessed with a look of innocence, good sex
Peanut butter complex and some pretty eyes
Pity cries on my strategy side, yo anatomy gotta be right
That'd be to flatter me, right
But if the head the bomb, c'mon, suck a nigga dick
Members of my clique wanna see what that'd be like
I know you wanna try that, to the rhythm of a hi-hat
Don't be bogus and deny that
I done got a ho to let my fellas run a train
While she lie back, now motherfucker can you buy that?
Where your ride at?
On the passenger side of your ho
Trying to come up on another G
The broad all up under me, trying to smother me
Looking lovely while I roll another B, suddenly
She learned that I don't deal with emotions
But when we in the room, she rubbing me with lotion
Coming like an ocean, coasting, have her sick
Thinking me and Do or Die dig drinking love potion
The word no was never said
Twista be giving women dick in the bed, until they sick in the head
And if I ever leave whoever dead
They ain't tricking the feds or spitting game, but it's chicken and bread
Kicking them legs in the air like a playa do
Then belittle in a day or two
After words I'mma slay a crew
Now that's some pimp-type shit that Belo and AK'll do
Wearing gray and blue
If a ho wanna holler, then you a playa if you hit them ends
And get the dividends
But you a pimp if you can get the same ho to wanna freak your friends
Cause I studied P-I, M-P, -ology, but logically
Be learning these hoes biology, obviously, well
[Hook x2: Johnny P]
