Pimp Slap lyrics

W-Balls, it's your main man DJ E-Z di*k
About to unleash another one of those platinum plus hits
And the word is on the streets, and the word is the streets
We gon' go to a live remote, licking wit' my main man Mr Doggy Dogg
A day in the life, of a Rollin' 20 Crip
I'm just a stuburn type of fella with a head like a brick
And just because I sip Moet, they say that I'm hopeless
But I don't give a f*ck, so blame it on the loc'ness
Now this is how we do it when we checking the grip
Snoop Dogg is in this b*tch, so don't even trip
I bust a funky composition that's smooth as a prism
Now check it as I kick off in this funky ass rhythm
It's six dub, the phone is ringing off the deck
And it's some homies talking about I disrespected they set
Aww nah, Dogg ain't this y'all
I got couple relatives up off of Crenshaw
This is about me and Simon, not me and y'all
I got love for a bunch of real B-Dogs
Like K-Dub, Top Cat, B-Reel, E-Rock, Boo-Lay Face
And the homie Har'ron rest in peace
Big Jay from Cappinella Park
He used to blaze with his nephew after dark
On and on, rocking big neck bone
Mauseberg I had to put you on my song
It's so real, I had show some love
Now back to the scrub, it ain't about Crip or Blood
It's about you being jealous bout what I does
'Cos I does it the most, the King of The Coast, in a Pink Plaint Pos
I back ya down like Shack Daddy and bust on ya out the new Caddy
And skirt up Wiltshire Boulevard
I'm not Xzibit, you can't pull my hoe card
I f*cked all your groupies, when you was doing time and kept Snoopy
With the fags and snitches, no killers just b*tches
And you was paying n*ggas off of all my riches
You so hard caught, why ain't you go to level four? Oh, I know
(b*tch)
But I walk the main line every time I go down
You can check my G Files, I do it LBC style
I got the word on ya Simon, you need to just start rhyming
(Simon)
'Cos you the biggest star on your label
And them other n*ggas just crumbs off my table, you're not able
To compete with the heat that I drop
And I still ain't been paid, for One-Eight-Seven On A Cop
I started yo sh*t and I'll end yo sh*t
If you keep talking sh*t on Crip
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Jealous ass n*gga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Gon' get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Jealous ass n*gga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Gon' get pimp slapped)
Money, I get it, paper I got it
Heaters, I keep 'em, b*tches, I got 'em
Money, I get it, paper I got it
Heaters, I keep 'em, b*tches, I got 'em
If I shoot you, I'll be brainless and you'll be famous
And I'll be spending money out the anus
Your only gain is to try to get me to fall down to your level
Man you worser than devils
A lotta n*ggas should've said it, f*ck 'em
But I'ma say it for 'em, stop it, pop it, rewind and play it for 'em
This n*gga's a b*tch like his wife
Suge Knight's a b*tch and that's on my life
And I'ma let the whole world see
'Cos you f*cked up the industry and that's on me
We can go head up, n*gga, set it up
Or we can do the other thing, I love to wet it up
Your rappers and artists, tell 'em, shut it up
'Cos I'll f*ck every last one of 'em up, especially Kurupt
See that's my lil' homeboy, so he knows what's up
He better keep it Crippin' and slip his clip in
'Cos these n*ggas trippin', this is official business
Do the same way, leave no witnesses
This is that unexpected diss directed, sprayed, covered and protected
Strip you butt naked, chicky-check-check-it
It's all to the good again
You can catch Snoopy Dibby Double in the hood again
Spinning that real times, spitting that real sh*t
To make the whole world feel it
So put the bacon in the skillet and try to peel it
'Cos Doggy style Records is the realest, n*gga
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Jealous ass n*gga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Gon' get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Jealous ass n*gga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
(Gon' get pimp slapped)
Money, I get it, paper I got it
Heaters, I keep em, b*tches I got 'em
Money, I get it, paper I got it
Jealous ass n*gga