[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar outta me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar outta me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Now, shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That B.C.B.G, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana
She's feeding fools' fantasies, they pay her 'cause they want her
I spit a little G-Man and my game got her
An hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear, saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar, trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla 'cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla 'cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch, hit the track, catch a date, and come pay the kid
Look, baby, this is simple, you can't see?
You fuckin' with me, you fuckin' with a P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar outta me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar outta me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Now, shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That B.C.B.G, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana
She's feeding fools' fantasies, they pay her 'cause they want her
I spit a little G-Man and my game got her
An hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear, saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar, trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla 'cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla 'cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch, hit the track, catch a date, and come pay the kid
Look, baby, this is simple, you can't see?
You fuckin' with me, you fuckin' with a P-I-M-P
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!