Big Pimpin’ lyrics

[Intro]
I'm big pimpin' right now n*gga
I'm big pimpin' right now, where that lean at? Where that lean at? Pass, me that lean?
It's Woponese, you know what that mean, what I mean, big pimpin' n*gga
Listen to me n*gga
Listen to me
Hear me out

[Verse 1]

One, thirteen, nine-seven when they made a legend
Oh sh*t he got that chopper, its a one eighty seven
About to blow up on that opps, since the nine eleven
And I'm always on my grind, in the line for seconds
b*tch I do the crime because my lawyer aggressive
Oh and these turned your livers into simple possessions
Ten racks on some straps just for extra protection
Level six on my chest sh*t I gotta invest in 'em
Cause I done torch n*ggas down when they toting they weapon
Pull, pull up on a n*gga, I ain't ask him no questions
He get a rep from the Tec about some sh*t he was repping
Catch him in a lobby trying to get to the exit
Walk up on a n*gga and I ask for directions
Soon as he looked to left, hit his ass with the FN
Give me the price if it's right, then his life I'm finessing
Speaking of finessing I finessed the connection
Because he was coming through collecting but I wasn't progressing
I watch my daughter with the carbon, say I'm overprotective
Cruising down Elm Street with my AR-15
No you don't want Jimmy Wop to pop up in your dream
I'm a f*cking grave digger and a codeine fiend
I got the sack on these b*tches counting Mean Joe Green
Drop kick from the chick, b*tch don't step in in the ring
Smiles goofy like he six but a vet with the beam
B-Boolin in the jets got a Tec with the string
I'll leave that ass Red Bull, you gonna definitely get wings
I'm on your head, on that bread like some sesame seeds
RIP JD and n*gga free Ja weez
You can't bob and weave these 223's
Swear money Mayweather couldn't even box these
They kick and flip, n*gga these Jet Li's
I let 'em fly like butterfly, sting like bees
I got a mission and [?] feeding Grandma B
She wanna do it off the percs, told me bring LGs
They saying Wop about to blow, n*gga who you gonna feed?
n*gga my momma and my daughter and my boy Taylor [?]
But wait, n*gga hold that, Imma f*ck the whole trap
Whole lane boys n*gga Imma flood the whole rack
New n*ggas whack they ain't hotter than my old raps
n*ggas think they doing something busting on my old snaps
f*cking all my old hoes, toting all my old straps
Imma have a couple mill still pimpin' shootin' craps
Player I ain't preaching to you, n*gga I'm just stating facts
You ain't got that paperwork then you can't say he a rat
I remember way back, eating hot and cold packs
Used to hit the corner store, steal chips and fruit snacks
Be the same n*gga from the clubhouse, turn Mickey Mouse
Soon as I see a square round, I just kick him out
Everywhere I go I got a n*gga with that chickie out
Treetop piru n*gga check my f*cking body count
[Outro]

Lane, lane
(Treetop piru n*gga check my f*cking body count)
Big pimpin'
(Big pimpin' right now)
Woponese
Pimpin right now
(Bullet in my cup and another in my gun)