Popa Chief Follow

Lil Pimpin lyrics

[Intro: Popa Chief]
Let me find out somebody had they lips on my peace pipe
Lil' pimpin', spending cheese
Count my money out, girl

[Chorus: Popa Chief]
Yo, if you see me in the throw-up Jag
Like we go nuts in the riv-rag, and facticious had
Backseat full of c-hags
Puffin' a fatty and taking long drags
Don't hate the player, and I won't have to bra-a-ag
About how Pop's got the money ba-a-g
All the shit in my pants don't sag
And I'mma, rock the mic until my coat catch a tag

[Popa Chief]
I'mma be around forever, like the world's oldest professional
Oldest freshman, the roughneck rookie, call ya bookie
Cuz this hot stop, tip that got you feeling lucky
I'mma smacking beaks off plucky duckies
For talking out of turn, ain't nothing like sperm
It's hella MC's, I'mma need hella earn
For all these ashes, been a rapper, no longer, soldier, the masters
It's time for a change, and this Monday ain't thug game
Everybody sound the same, let me tell ya'll like Hanes
Wait til I get my raps on you
The book on how to, be an MC of value
My shit's correct, check with the better business bureau
I rock the urban, as well as the rural
Smack you in the face and challenge you to a duel
It's all about the dollars and cents, ch-ching
If your ass ain't making dollars, then you don't make sense


[Popa Chief]
I roll up on your set like Hannibal, and a pack of guns
Nobody squirm, nobody get over permed
My gate rob and pillage, then burn you village
To the grid-ound, with the flaming tomahawk sound
Halt, I hear war drums, somebody wants some
Just that quick, to trap and sprung
Stick a fork in 'em and never fail
But ya'll wanna tip toe the third rail
Energize flows when the average nigga bails
Even in Cambodia, my shit sells
Like niggas eat collards, like white folks kale
My earth consilent brings the rah-rah, I get misty, choke the la-la
Kiss my seeds, mmm-mmm, bye-bye
Whoo, believe I can fly-fly
Like Red and Iron Lung, that's How High, high
I be, so high, you can blind me with dental floss
Never eat the twiz-at, without the duck sauce


[Popa Chief]
Aiyo, I break day, federal offense and tangeray
Puffin' hay, XO, exit in my squall scream state
No way, it's time to make the donuts, when you see me, throw your flows up
A bloody icebergs, low's and timbo's up
Like a four-four buck, I rap the same enthusiasm
Verbal murder mayhem, eargasm, phantasm
Fuck taking what a nigga give you, I want more
Climb through the window of oppurtunity, kick the henges off the door
Cloak the Ninja armor, death before dishonor
Hungrier than Mike Tyson and Jeffrey Dahmer
I keeps up with the Joneses, stay ahead of my time
Cuz you can't keep kickin' 'em same old rhymes
No chips, no whips, feel the bananas to the tips
Bust out your feet, make you shake your hips
No excuses, lyrically abusive, your outcome's conclusive
Can't get enough of these Burnt Biskuit exclusives


Lil Pimpin Video

https://youtube.com/devicesupport: (video from YouTube)

Thanks to Germaine for submitting the lyrics.
Correct these lyrics

Comments on Lil Pimpin

Submit your thoughts

These comments are owned by whoever posted them. This lyrics site is not responsible for them in any way.

© to the lyrics most likely owned by either the publisher () or
the artist(s) (Popa Chief) which produced the music or artwork. Details

All Artists A-Z


© might belong to the performers or owners of the songs. Lyrics may be used for private study, scholarship or academic research only.
In accordance to the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, publishers may ask to have specific lyrics removed.
This is a non-commercial site. We are not selling anything. Details
Lyricszoo content, design, layout © 2021 Lyricszoo.