[Chorus x2: Pimp C]
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I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
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DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
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I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
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DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
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[Pimp C:]
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I got money on my beeper, dead trees on my phone
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They call me Mick Jagger 'cause I "roll a lot of stones"
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It's a whole lot of clones but only one Sweet Jones
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Turnin whores to carnivores, they just can't leave my meat alone
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It's been a long time since I busted on a glock
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but every corner that I hit, I left it screwed up and chopped (chopped)
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Marooned up and dropped, like my Biarritz on top
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Let the motherfucker bleed until it drip and let it drop
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I'm still that young boy that had a pocket full of stones
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but now I'm sick and simply rich, grippin wood and flippin chrome
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I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
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DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
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[Chorus]
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[Bun B:]
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Man I pull up in your city and get my Bush on (what is that?)
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Lay down the competition, take their cash crops, and get my push on (huh)
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Moved up to Bentley with more chrome from a Lexus key (key)
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All because we cornered the market on that Texas tee (tee)
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And we don't bar no plexes, we way bigger than other men though (men though)
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The diamond deuces on tinted windows, we in the wind yo (wind yo)
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We "Chevro way" the wind blow (wind blow), that's the corner we been Joe (been Joe)
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Don't know where you been bro, but it's no quiz to me, you win though
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When it's ten fo', good to go, but in my Styrofoam good and muddy
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We block bleeders (what?), leavin your neighborhoods good and bloody
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We grippin that woodler, bud it (damn), sit back and scope it (huh)
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Pay attention to Prince and pushin everything about to pump it
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[Chorus]
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[Pimp C:]
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Uh! I done smashed up my flyin spurt, it wasn't shit
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I just parked it in the grass and brought some brand new shit
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A Phantom Rolls Royce, 24's with the bump
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I ain't trippin about the seat, I got them woofers in my trunk
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Cut in my swisher, codeine on my whiskers
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Fuckin with that Smoke D, Bundy, and that Vicious
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UGK Records, it's an institution
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Know a lot of niggaz livin off of prostitution
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Pimpin ain't dead, it just moved to the web
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Bitch ain't gotta hit the track, ain't gotta give no tricks no head
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Ain't got to give no tricks no pussy, just cameras and screams
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Easiest money you can get, it's the American Dream bitch!
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[Bun B:]
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Man I'm a middle finger figure (figure), a million dollar mission
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Poppin like Orville Redenbacher (bacher), with a whippin in the kitchen (kitchen)
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Yayo like Dontrelle Willis (what?), we the trillest
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On the mound, I'm holdin that whole South down, I know you feel us
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We the realest walkin the planet, can't stand it
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Pass away, wanna fight us
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Start to swingin, wanna kill us
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Blast away, wanna stab us
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Get to stickin but make sure you cut us deep
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'Cause I betcha we comin back a couple hundred brothers deep (oh!)
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Pimp and Bun, we run the streets, which streets? Man, pick your hood
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Don't matter, we represented, cross us? (yeah) We gon' get you good
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Them Down South veterans (huh), ain't nobody better than
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gonna tell your next of kin or your brethren, let us in cousin
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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The Game Belongs To Me
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| UGK |
