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Popa Chief
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Lil Pimpin
[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
[Chorus]
[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
[Chorus]
[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
[Chorus]
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