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Correct Pimps (Free Stylin' At The Fortune 500 Club) Lyrics
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Correct Pimps (Free Stylin' At The Fortune 500 Club)
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Lyrics:
Fuck naw I ain't got no Grey Poupon Well anyway, I said, "That's no burglar! That's my butler." Mr. Rockefeller, let me in on the gossip I heard you and Mr. Getty are getting into rap music or something Yes, we have this thing we do with our voices We sing like authentic rappers Oh David, you must do it for us Well if they could make this music more funky Let me see if I can get my voice like those rappers Here we go Well, if you're blind as Helen Keller You could see I'm David Rockefeller So much cash up in my bathroom it's a Ready-Teller I'm outrageous, I work in stages, like syphillis But no need for prophylactics I'mma up you on some mean old mac shit Ain't buff, but my green gots amino acid Keep my hoes in check, no rebellions If your ass occur, shit It wouldn't be the first time I done made a massacre Nigga please, how you figure these Motherfuckers like me got stocks bonds and securities No impurities, straight Anglo-Saxon When my family got they sex on Don't let me get my flex on, do some gangster shit Make the army go to war for Exxon Long as the money flow, I be making dough Welcome to my little pimp school How you gonna beat me at this game? I make the rules Flash a little cash, make you think you got class But you really selling ass and ho keep off my grass Less you cutting it, see I'm running shit Trick all y'all motherfuckas is simps I'm just a pimp That is so cute! John Paul, why don't you entertain us with something as well? Well, what should I do? Why don't you rap for us? No, I Come on, old boy, I did mine I It's so, tribal Well, very well Oh goody! But, hold my martini, I have to do those hand gestures We will begin at the commencement of the next measure Now get ready, I'm J.P. Getty I am tearing shit up like confetti My money last longer than Eveready Ain't nothing petty about cash I never lose This is just like the stroll But the hoes don't choose, I chose you No voodoo can hoo-doo you From getting treated like a piece of ol' booboo who Do you think want those niggas that don't turn tricks? The loco ho in '94 is getting 86ed And all about those rebellions, and riots and mishaps I got the po po's for their daily pimp slap The motherfucker gangsta, rolling Fleetwood Caddy I'm that mack ass already pimped his daddy Lay you out like linoleum floors I'm getting rich off petroleum wars Controlling you whores, making you eat Top Ramen While I eat shrimp, y'all motherfuckas is simps I'm just a pimp Oh no here he comes Oh don't look at him Are you fellows rapping? I can do that reggie, uh, ah reggae type of thing You know, one, two, three Well actually, we were just leaving And Trump Trump check out the cash in my trunk Trump Trump check out the cash in my trunk I am Donald Trump me think you mighta heard about me How me last wife Ivana come and catch me money She want all, she want this, she want that of fun X amount of this like just like the gap hear me Hol' up your hand if you love the money Hol' up your hand if you love punanny Gun pon mi side mi afi kill somebody Because the money inna mi trunk dem wan fi come tek see
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