The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match

Oh yes it's Bun B, but no applause
Please, unlock your jaws just unbutton em
Unzip em squeeze out and you got no flaws
You get your cross town call
You know you got respect in the mens stall
Broads having meetings up in the ladies room
Gettin it yall
Porsche caravans, Benz, Cadillacs
And minivans, pullin cutta
Yo Smitty whattup, ain't no time to nut up
I suck my gut up then I let them
Boppas talk until i let em shut up
Say baby raise that toot up
Kiss that face down
Jazzed up, I can't pass up - AC
Feel ya brother glass up, the spot I blast up
Just in case you gassed up cuz last up
For you it's all down from here
Far as we concerned yall need to
Get yall self around from here
Used to clown the year
Man Im known to wreck the century
Giving industry enemy infantries
Infinite injuries instantly
If it's meant to be, behold the
Pimp in me, ain't no simpin
But sit back relax baby you finst to see

The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match

I be flippin and whipping
In this game ain't tricking
Candy paint on my double
O Northstar keep dripping
Fifth wheel, bumpin grill
Slightly tinted windshield
With a solid gold byzantine cuz
You know Im trill drop screen, sippin lean
Assorted ranchers in my cup
Hitting the scene diamonds glean
A yung player with big bucks
You can tell im a pimp
By the way that I walk
You can tell Im a playa by
The way that I talk you know
I'm super fly by the car that I drive
And you kno
I don't love broads hollering pimp or die
I drink and drive
Will have you out here selling your snatch
You met your match
The day you got too attached with the

The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match
The piece the chain, the gangsta hats
The alligator shoes with the belts to match

Pimp C trick we got the funk
If you a baller in the south we in yo trunk
If you bout it and you know it hoe then owe
And You ain't ridin' in my
Benz if you ain't smokin'
If you a square type chick than get round
Hop it up Pop that thing and touch the ground
Now get crunk, get buck get crunk, get buck
And let me see you if you gon' give it up
(give it up)
Im Tryna' lead in your girl like Dirk Diggler
ATL - High Caligula (Caligula)
On ya job gurl I'll make you dissapear
(Dissapear, uhh)
And drop a three carrot diamond in my ear
Now I'm daddy (I'm daddy)
Im daddy (I'm Daddy)
Grippin' wood it feels good in the caddy
Its '99 we ain't messin' with no rats
Its time to put some real
Life pimpin' on the track
And bring my money back trick

Hold up
UGK records know what I'm talkin' bout
Smokin' something for the '99 hold up
You need to get your mind on your money
Get down bout your paper
Down here we ain't makin' hip hop
Songs know what I'm sayin'
We makin' country rap tunes
So uh separate us from the rest
We grippin' grain down here

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): BERNARD JAMES FREEMAN, CHAD L. BUTLER, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD, WILLIE M. HUTCH