[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
[Verse 1: Pimp C]
I got money on my beeper, dead trees on my phone
They call me Mick Jagger 'cause I roll a lot of stones
It's a whole lot of clones but only one Sweet Jones
Turning whores to carnivores, they just can't leave my meat alone
It's been a long time since I hustled on the block
But every corner that I hit, I left it screwed up and chopped
Marooned up and dropped, like my Biarritz on top
Let the motherfucker bleed until it drip the last drop
I'm still that young boy that had a pocket full of stones
But now, it's nicks for sixty bricks, gripping wood and flipping chrome
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Man, I pull up in your city and get my Bush on ("What is that?")
Lay down the competition, take they cash crops, and get my push on (Ugh)
Moved up to a Bentley remote from a Lexus key
All because we cornered the market on that Texas tea
And we don't bar no 'plexes, we way bigger than other men though
The diamond deuces on tinted windows, we in the wind, yo
Whichever way the wind blow, that's the corner we bend, Joe
Don't know where you been, bro, but it's no quiz to me, you win though
When it's ten-four, good, buddy, my Styrofoam good and muddy
We block bleeders (What?), leaving your neighborhoods good and bloody
We gripping that wood, lil' buddy (Dam), sit back and scope it (Huh)
Pay attention, the prince of pushing everything's 'bout to pump it
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Verse 3: Pimp C]
Ugh! I done smashed up my Flying Spur it wasn't shit
I just parked it in the grass and brought some brand new shit (Ugh)
A Phantom Rolls Royce, 24s with the bump
I ain't trippin about the seat, I got them woofers in my trunk
Skunk in my Swisher, codeine on my whiskers
Fucking with that Smoke D, Bundy, and that Vicious
UGK Records is an institution
Know a lot of niggas living off of prostitution
Pimping ain't dead, it just moved to the web
Bitch ain't gotta hit the track, ain't gotta give no tricks no head
Ain't gotta give no tricks no pussy, just cameras and screens
Easiest money you can get, it's the American Dream, biiitch!
[Verse 4: Bun B]
Man, I'm a middle finger figure, on a million-dollar mission
Popping like Orville Redenbacher, when I'm whipping in the kitchen
Pitching yayo like Dontrelle Willis (What?), we the trillest
On the mound, I'm holdin that whole South down, I know you feel us
We the realest walkin the planet, can't stand it
Pass away, wanna fight us, start to swinging, wanna kill us
Blast away, wanna stab us
Get to sticking but make sure you cut us deep
'Cause I bet you we coming back a couple hundred brothers deep (Oh)
Pimp and Bun, we run the streets, which streets? Man, pick your hood
Don't matter, we represented; cross us (Yep), we gon' get you good
Them Down South veterans (Huh), ain't nobody better than
Gonna tell your next of kin or your brethren, let us in, 'cause...
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
[Verse 1: Pimp C]
I got money on my beeper, dead trees on my phone
They call me Mick Jagger 'cause I roll a lot of stones
It's a whole lot of clones but only one Sweet Jones
Turning whores to carnivores, they just can't leave my meat alone
It's been a long time since I hustled on the block
But every corner that I hit, I left it screwed up and chopped
Marooned up and dropped, like my Biarritz on top
Let the motherfucker bleed until it drip the last drop
I'm still that young boy that had a pocket full of stones
But now, it's nicks for sixty bricks, gripping wood and flipping chrome
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Man, I pull up in your city and get my Bush on ("What is that?")
Lay down the competition, take they cash crops, and get my push on (Ugh)
Moved up to a Bentley remote from a Lexus key
All because we cornered the market on that Texas tea
And we don't bar no 'plexes, we way bigger than other men though
The diamond deuces on tinted windows, we in the wind, yo
Whichever way the wind blow, that's the corner we bend, Joe
Don't know where you been, bro, but it's no quiz to me, you win though
When it's ten-four, good, buddy, my Styrofoam good and muddy
We block bleeders (What?), leaving your neighborhoods good and bloody
We gripping that wood, lil' buddy (Dam), sit back and scope it (Huh)
Pay attention, the prince of pushing everything's 'bout to pump it
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
[Verse 3: Pimp C]
Ugh! I done smashed up my Flying Spur it wasn't shit
I just parked it in the grass and brought some brand new shit (Ugh)
A Phantom Rolls Royce, 24s with the bump
I ain't trippin about the seat, I got them woofers in my trunk
Skunk in my Swisher, codeine on my whiskers
Fucking with that Smoke D, Bundy, and that Vicious
UGK Records is an institution
Know a lot of niggas living off of prostitution
Pimping ain't dead, it just moved to the web
Bitch ain't gotta hit the track, ain't gotta give no tricks no head
Ain't gotta give no tricks no pussy, just cameras and screens
Easiest money you can get, it's the American Dream, biiitch!
[Verse 4: Bun B]
Man, I'm a middle finger figure, on a million-dollar mission
Popping like Orville Redenbacher, when I'm whipping in the kitchen
Pitching yayo like Dontrelle Willis (What?), we the trillest
On the mound, I'm holdin that whole South down, I know you feel us
We the realest walkin the planet, can't stand it
Pass away, wanna fight us, start to swinging, wanna kill us
Blast away, wanna stab us
Get to sticking but make sure you cut us deep
'Cause I bet you we coming back a couple hundred brothers deep (Oh)
Pimp and Bun, we run the streets, which streets? Man, pick your hood
Don't matter, we represented; cross us (Yep), we gon' get you good
Them Down South veterans (Huh), ain't nobody better than
Gonna tell your next of kin or your brethren, let us in, 'cause...
[Hook: Pimp C]
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch, the game belong to me
( UGK )
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