[Intro: Ice-T Talking]
|
Yo, all these niggaz out here wanna pimp now, man
|
They done see Bishop Magic Juan
|
They done watch Pimps Up, Hoes Down
|
Niggaz wanna ask me, stop me in traffic asking me questions and shit
|
Man, that's shit!
|
|
[Verse 1: Ice-T]
|
I pimp a bitch into a brick wall, test my game
|
You niggaz wanna get gangster, gonna test my aim
|
If your bitches outta pocket, got yourself to blame
|
Cause I'm a motherfucking pimp, Iceberg's the name
|
I mack a bitch into a coma with I roll up on her
|
Get my brain up in her my brain, make her hook and love the corner
|
Lot of y'all niggaz claim to kick it, but you're weak to me
|
So you chillie ass pimps, don't even speak to me
|
Known to be the coldest nigga, Cadillac track mack
|
Smack the fucking whore unconscious if my trap ain't fat
|
Whoring is from the hip, pimping is from the lip
|
So nigga grab your dick and chop some fucking game of a bitch
|
And stop stopping me in traffic, asking how I do it
|
The pimp game is in my blood, nigga, thought you knew it
|
You ain't cutting like this nigga, let me tell you why!
|
I asked God to let me pimp or let me die!
|
|
[Chorus: Ice-T X2]
|
Pimp or die
|
I knocked fifty whores last week, twenty fell off
|
I pimped hard on the last thirty, twenty went soft
|
I left ten down the reign, but only one was true
|
And I still got more bitches than you, Pimp or die!
|
|
[Verse 2: Ice-T]
|
This ain't no game for lames nigga
|
Grab your bitch, take her off and marry her
|
Kid, this game'll bury ya
|
Call the bitch, hit the track, some pimp took her
|
You can't control a girl friend, more less a hooker
|
Stop reading Pimp books, square up, get a job
|
Sell dope, steal cars, get a gun, rob
|
You're just a fan of pimping, and it ain't all good
|
You're playing a minute you're goffen, I'm.. Tiger woods;
|
Ain't no fair lane, you want a fair game, play cards baby
|
Pimping ain't easy, but whoring ain't hard
|
Dear God I break a trick, quick for those that know
|
The only bitches that I fuck with, are those that whores
|
|
[Chorus: Ice-T]
|
|
[Verse 3: Ice-T]
|
I got the brand new Ros', then throw you the keys
|
I ride Satechi-Ro at thirty two degrees
|
Nigga, you duck and run, faggot, I cock and squeeze
|
And about the dough I blow, it's like it grow on trees
|
You're talking lay away, I'm talking CortAⓒ
|
You make a bitch your wife, I charge a bitch the day
|
And every whore I know, do what the fuck I say
|
Cause I'm a fucking pimp, nigga, you're fucking play
|
First of, there ain't no crash course in this game
|
In case you didn't hear me first time, Berg's the name
|
Before you start, you gotta have a cold heart and colder dick
|
All you wanna do is fuck, you was a straight trick
|
Stand on a bitch, break your hand on a bitch
|
Grind for your grip, except no shit
|
Get your gear tight player, learn to act polite
|
Get in the whore's head, fuck the bitch, you're after the bread
|
Soothe it out pimp, mack with finesse and shawn
|
And pretty soon you'll have hookers hanging over your arms
|
But the game is played in dark streets, gators and concrete
|
Your tracks lock is amaze, pimps sleave daze
|
Whores run away, set you up to die
|
But you wanted to live the life cause you did it this fly
|
The pimp game is the moving target and you ain't that steady
|
Stay the fuck off the track, pussy you ain't ready
|
|
[Chorus: Ice-T until fade]
|
|
-----------------
|
Pimp Or Die
|
| Ice-T |
