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(PIMP) [Chorus] I don't know what you heard about me But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P [Repeat] [Verse 1] Now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana She feed them stud foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna I spit a little G man, stud and my game got her A hour stud later, have that ass up in the Ramada Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread I could care less how she perform when she in the bed Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid Look baby this is simple, you can't see You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P [Chorus] [Verse 2] I'm bout my money
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