Poetic Pimpin’ lyrics

[Verse 1: Lofty305]
Yuh, what y'all n*ggas know about that sh*t though?
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Lofty305, see
What ya n*ggas know, about this here?
pus*y n*gga this pimpin' end yo' career
'Cause a stupid ass b*tch, yeah she want my di*k
Don't trust that b*tch, don't trust that b*tch
I was with her, the other motherf*ckin' day
Smokin', a J, she smoked on my beret
Yeah that be my di*k head, b*tch I keep yo' b*tch fed
Yeah I keep that b*tch fed with big di*k big head
Yeah, that is what she got, so she suck my di*k a lot
You might be up on that reggie, but I smoke that crip a lot
Yeah n*gga, what you got? Metro Zu, this what we bop
In this b*tch, all day it's hot, b*tch take your shirt off or you pass out
Bang, bang, bang, b*tch
Pimp, sh*t, stupid hoe
Aye, aye, get my money b*tch
Go, go, go, go

[Verse 2: Poshtronaut]
Yeah, stupid b*tch, what?
Damn, that's Mr. B, okay
f*ck you b*tch
On my di*k, she boppin' be, suckin' that sh*t sloppily
She think she do propеrly, no there ain't no stoppin' me
Mr. B a dog, hoе, I f*ck you and all yo' friends
Yeah you know just how it go, f*ck you 'til the party end
Lay you on yo' back, yeah, yeah you likin' that, yeah
Don't you know my di*k, c*ck it back just like a strap
Give yo' b*tch a heart attack, make her pus*y straight collapse
I ain't talkin' no drug addiction, make that sh*t relapse
And you know I'm eatin' lobster, full-blown mobster
All you other n*ggas, y'all just straight-up imposters
Eat you like you pasta, b*tch I sound like Gucci Mane
Shut that sh*t up b*tch, let me just get in yo' coochie, mane!
sh*t, yeah, I'm all up in yo' pus*y
Uh, okay, all up in yo' pus*y
What the f*ck you wanna do? I bounce on it like Mario
Stupid b*tch you sorry hoe, yeah you know you sorry hoe
Uh, yeah I flush you down the toilet
You nothin' but sh*t, b*tch, flush you down the toilet
Uh, yeah I'm dirty with this sh*t, yeah I'm dirty with this sh*t, 305 be the sh*t, aye, b*tch
[Verse 3: Ruben Slikk]
n*gga, cut that b*tch off
If she out of pocket, you better cut the b*tch off
Tell the hoe you mean business, b*tch give me my money
And I mean that sh*t
And I motherf*ckin' mean that sh*t, dawg
I motherf*ckin' mean that sh*t
If the hoe out of pocket (let me preach to y'all n*ggas, dawg)
Let me preach to y'all n*ggas
See, about a b*tch, dawg, you gotta break her. You gotta make her somethin' that she wanna be (make that b*tch sum')
Take that b*tch to ecstasy, dawg. When she wishes she gotta be addicted like a drug (like heroin)
Except your soul, your pimpin' gotta be heroin, n*gga, you gotta know you that raw (you gotta be that boy)
You gotta pimp them hoes, reach deep in a b*tch purse and let 'em know you mean business, mack these hoes
But dawg, one thing you gotta realize is, game recognize game, the way you recognize me
I am that, hashish form of game, that you wish to be
How do I-How do you figure that, you might ask?
'Cause I f*cked your b*tch
I already f*cked your b*tch, she done sucked my di*k
So just recognize game, and add more b*tches to my stable
You already know, Ruben Slikk and f*ckin' stereo

[Outro: Ruben Slikk]
I beat the pus*y to the beat of the bongos
And as the drum goes and sways, from left to right
I beat that pus*y until it's, no longer tight and I ignite
The tip of the blunt and I, spite any b*tch with no money, no grip that I, might be able to grip
'Cause b*tch, I need it
I told that b*tch to hit the f*ckin' knees and suck my p*nis when she brought me, a 50 dollar bill
I told her, lay down I'll make that pus*y squeal but have more the next time that we f*ck
b*tch came back next time with 20 bucks and I'm like, what the f*ck?
b*tch, you're nasty
Give me my cash and walk the right f*ck past me, you nasty-ass b*tch
I gotta have my stacks, pimpin' hoes stone cold hard like that (Ruben motherf*ckin' Slikk)
I go hard on a b*tch
I be mackin' these hoes
Yeah these b*tches ain't sh*t, but if you is a seal