MATHEMATICS


Pimp Party Lyrics

[Intro: Almighty Infinite (Boy Big)]
I remember when he was a young boy, I knew his mama for years
Now he wanna be, wanna be a player, I remember him
Had a snotty nose, couldn't know how to tie his shoe
Now he wanna be, a drug dealer, so called pimp
And his macking game, ain't all that
I knew his father... father wasn't all that
(Pimp party) pimps (pimp party) hoes
(Pimp-party, pimp-party, pimp-party, pimp-party)
Oh shit, yo, it's a pimp convention going on in New York City, boy
Yo, you best to get down, we over here in New York City
With the baddest, the finest, finest broads out here in New York City
I tell you boy, we got ass shaking, we got titties shaking
All here, my brother, we gotta come on down, to the pimp convention

[Chorus x4: Boy Big]
Pimp party, chillin' at a pimp party (oh oh oh)

[Eyes Low]
Come and ride with me, where the pimps hang
Big chains, wrapped around necks, specs, under slick rings
Burri' bird los', tan timbs, throwbacks
Heavy cognac, stains on cherry fur coats
Most chicks drink, almost every bird choke
But the party over, when that dessy bird smoke
You already hold folks, it's a don affair
Find a freak with blondish hair, and palm aware
Got my ex-cons in here, with arms to bare
I'm the next, starved for beer, the bomb this year
Yeah, dough we get, that 'dro, we click, that after
Shows, we rip, them hoes, get pimped in fashion
Mo' get sipped, and clothes get stripped, we smashin'
Our boa constrict', deflictin' big compactions
We ain't leavin' til we rip every last dime
Pimp never had blind, bitch better have mine, have mine

[Chorus x4]

[Interlude: Almighty Infinite]
Oh shit, yo, the f*cking Bishop Don Juan
White Mo, Jody, muthaf*ckin' Ribbon Shift
What up my nigga, yo, it's a pimp party
Up in this bitch, boy... we got the pimps to the left And all, youknowhatimsayin, we got the hoes to the right
And shit, we got pimps in front of me, I got pimps in back of me
Yo, it's gotta be a muthaf*ckin' pimp party, man
Yo, why the f*ck your jewels shining like that, man
Gold ass creak, bigger than hell, man
Yo, that fur coat you got on my brother, yo, word is bond
The illest, man

[Chorus x4]

[Buddah Bless]
Yo, I leave the lab, ghetto fab, from toe to head
Chillin' in some of the codest red
You know I leave the soldier's bread
You know I cock back the hammer, muthaf*cka, better hold ya head
Now it's gator and ostrich convention
And I got the mack of the year, spot milked
In this tear drop silk, it's pimpin'
Got the beaver skin limped in
Respect robe with the best hoes in pink mink
Sweatin' my ever wish, like I Dream of Jeannie
So they all walk around in g-string bikini
A g' thing, believe me, not everyone's able
I'm gettin' bread off the book, under the table
I'm gettin' head off the hook, under the table
Pour my bottle, bitch, sippin' on a bottle of Crys'
High rollers in this joint, that's been pimpin'
Since pimpin', been pimpin', been pimpin'
Hollywood to Detroit

[Chorus x4]

[Outro: Almighty Infinite]
Yo that's your Pink Cadillac parked out front
Yo, whose Rolls Royce is that
Yo, hold up, who just pulled up in that Bentley, hard, right there?
Oh shit, these pimps done went crazy
They done tripped over New York City
We gonna have a new pimp convention in New York City, today
What's going down, out here, yo where Foxy Brown, where Pam Grier?
Yo, somebody tell me something, I'm bout to lose my mind
We got all this good shit out here, the flyest women
The baddest players, players among players
Players don't even know they players yet
The whole nine yards...

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these lyrics are submitted by kaan
Songwriter(s): Darryl Hill, Ronald Bean, Kevin Walker
Record Label(s): 2008 All Maf Productions Inc
Official lyrics by

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