Тональность: Bb minor
Verse 1
Dm
Am
[Intro: Big Pimp]
Dm
We back, Dirty Boyz
Am
A new beginnin' baby
F
We doin' this thang with
Nfinity, and motherfuckin' Rap- A- Lot
A
Dm
F
Dm
Black Klown forever
A
Dm
A
All my dirty boyz representing
Dm
F
the motherfuckin' south
Em
F
Am
Off the top, we still,
Verse 2
Dm
F
I'm a pimp to the first degree
Am
F
The same nigga teachin'
the pimp game to you
Shit, he heard it from me
F
Am
I sack and hustle herb on the street
F
My cousin G say mac these hoes
and leave the curb up to me
Dm
F
So I'm oblidged- - to tell
Dm
every girl that I meet
Am
She want to ride- - she gotta
F
get some dirt on her knees
Dm
It hurt'em to see,
F
Am
F
they baby mama swervin' with me
Am
F
Left out your house with some pants
but had a skirt underneath
Dm
F
A
Dm
F
She in the heavy see- H- E- V 350
rockin' with the shift kit hurtin' the street
Dm
She on the block like she
Am
F
But if I get her in my car,
I'mma have the bitch slurpin' for free
Dm
F
Oh you say you want to twirkfor a fee?
Am
Dm
Am
Well I ain't no trick, BIOTCH
F
I'll have your ass workin' for me
Dm
They call me Peter Wee,
F
Am
F
Am
because I flirt with the freaks
F
But you ain't never seen me do it,
you just heard it was me
And I'm is...
Dm
F
[Chorus: Big Pimp] (2x) We still pimpin'
Verse 3
hoes,
Am
F
we still gangstafied
We still ridin' vogues, we gettin' high
Dm
F
We still in the club,
Dm
F
Am
F
we still sackin' wood
We still on them tweety dubs,
Dm
F
Am
Dm
Am
F
Dm
F
Am
F
we still in the hood
Verse 4
Am
[Verse 2: G- Stacka] Now you know Gangsta
Dm
F
stayin' blacked down,
with a black 4- pound
And'll bust off rounds,
in your chest until your back blow out
Dm
F
Cause everyday I hit the corner
E
Am
with a cracked up ounce
boy they start to do the Crackhead Bounce
Dm
And I got grams, grams,
F
Am
and grams of blow
Dm
Am
Dm
Of pure white snow,
Am
F
I call myself the good- dope- store
Dm
You'll catch me deep off in the
F
hood sittin' on all gold spokes
Am
F
Or probably smokin' on that wood,
sippin' that Hypnot- o
Dm
F
Am
And my motto is: If you ain't gangsta,
F
you ain't livin' right
And if you ain't pimpin' we got
Dm
prescriptions that'll get you tight
I come from the street,
Am
F
so packin' heat is just a part of life
Em
Am
And game on your wife,
F
Dm
F
Dm
freak her one night now she a super dike
F
Am
Dm
And it's the same damn thang everyday,
Am
flood the block with ya'
F
They don't smoke if they don't pay
Dm
F
I got a tech- 9 in my waistline
Am
F
Am
that'll leave your smoke gray
F
And in the hood is where you'll find me on a daily paper
Interlude 1
chase
F
Dm
F
Am
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
[Chorus] [Verse 3: G-
Verse 5
Am
Dm
Am
F
Dm
F
Am
F
Stacka]
Now when they see me,
Dm
F
hell they holla "Gangsta what you got for bout two bills"
I'll give your ass a ten pack
of triple stack X- pills
F
Am
F
Am
cause a nigga out here tryin' to live
F#m
I hit the block with a bunch of rocks un
F
F#m
F
til I stack me a mil'
Verse 6
I shack Shaq
Dm
like O'neal,
F
thirty- two O's in the grill
Dm
Am
I point guard with G,
F
but I coach them hoes like I'm Phil
Dm
Niggas ask what I'll be doin'
G
F
if I ain't have this deal
And I tell them "The same thang
for the last eighteen years"
Dm
F
And that is...
Am
[Chorus]
Outro 1
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Am
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Am
F
Dm
F
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