[Chorus: Cutty]
|
I'm chillin, wood spinnin
|
No Bentley's, Cadillac pimpin
|
I'm cruisin, hoes choosin
|
That's cool cuz I'm Cadillac pimpin
|
Spoke spinnin, gold grillin
|
Liquor spillin, Cadillac pimpin
|
Keep ridin, car slidin
|
That's cool cuz I'm Cadillac pimpin
|
|
[J-Bo]
|
Now as I grip and dive, I smoke on to keep a high
|
In the sky, as I emphasize the right to reply
|
With these words you under heard I swerve through a blur
|
Dodging these fuck niggaz who figure we outta splurge
|
And if happen to have the nerve, see homeboy you made a choice
|
For the crime you standing on and walking on is getting poise
|
Plus the Cadillac's we pimpin so slightly you been slippin
|
On really how it goes when these ties begin to grippin
|
And shiftin and whole takin to the spot where hoes shakin
|
I'm quakin, ridin on out - am I gon make it?
|
And pimp fool like niggaz with gataz without no chaperone
|
So see, we been doing this from way back long
|
'92, aqua blue, on them thangs we roll
|
With a cup full of liquor blowing good on swole
|
So let's ride til we can't ride no damn more
|
We Cadillac pimpin hard see my nigga fa sho'
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sean Paul]
|
Sure be white Cadillac but I called it to go
|
This your boy Sean Paul, baby tell 'em the truth
|
So roll Old Fleetwood with the two door coup
|
All platinum bill with the fifth wheel too
|
And give truth to these suckas something overdue
|
Ride a 'Lac like a true playa 'posed to do
|
Old school, slant back with a jigga too
|
Tan gold wit some bows like a poster boo
|
Old school, gold chain, still grippin the grain
|
Show a crease in my jeans, stay ahead of the game
|
Got a, piece on my grill, diamonds off in the back
|
And got so many hoes had to change up my 'Lac
|
All day I don't know how to act
|
Got this game down pat, sure be running the track
|
Get some money from these hoes and see how they react
|
Show 'em how a real nigga come down like that
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sean Paul]
|
I got a 'Lac with a rag, Louie Vuitton top
|
Diamond cut interior, 15's the knot
|
I'ma be a last nigga from the ATL
|
Y'all hell, feel eyes and the playa can sell
|
When you see me in the street, holla at me playa
|
My bitch got duke, e, rose and wine, boo as fine as hell
|
Through the strip'll never die, only time'll tell
|
To be in, it's Cadillac steerin wheel
|
|
[J-Bo]
|
Say what, gather round for this two door show
|
We let the spillin go, rillin in the Eldorado
|
We rollin through the spot to see which hoes gon follow
|
Cuz we get cool and down passin rounds of bottle
|
With a gloss so clean, I put this thing in throttle
|
For we out and cruise in the wind like roscoe
|
So you gonna know us when you see us when we ride on by slow
|
Cuz this shit'll never end through the eyes of my foes
|
|
[Chorus 2x]
|
|
-----------------
|
Cadillac Pimpin
|
| Youngbloodz |
