A'ight, you be careful now Is that rabbit? Pimps don't wear rabbit, ho, you know this is real mink right here Yeah, baby, you wanna feel it? You wanna feel it, huh? (Uh) Alright, baby, you be careful out here Pimp don't wear nothing fake, real pimps though (Yo) You ain't got pop a ecstasy pill To feel the sex appeal The legacy was built on this very hill You couldn't have put it on stills, it'd tilt And if you killed, pimp juice spilled My wounds ain't healed I got bruises still, this is therapeutic help Always gotta ride with a pistol Niggas got issues with mental health MCs hating us, need to hang it up We all got our hang-ups But bitch you better not hang my stuff on the wire hanger My diamond chain is a climate changer I'm playing with weather I got the Haarp machine in my dresser, I made it winter I made the tectonic plate shift Break your dishes, shake the kitchen Shit was like a 8 on the Richter, maybe bigger Wake up the baby and the babysitter You could still feel the tremors, pillars trembling I did all this in the gym dribbling It wasn't deliberate I just walked on water, you're all witness A'ight, you be careful now I'll be here (yeah, yeah), to dry your tears (I just walked on water, you all, yo) (Uh) you ain't got to cry, my dear (yeah) (Don't cry, baby) (Yo) you hidin' out there, when we find out where (where you niggas at?) (Yeah, yo) We gonna hit that, yeah Whippin' white, twist the Swiss knife in your kid's rib side Give you wings, you can kiss the sky Everyone on the ship died and got caught in the riptide Your body drift down the riverside My niggas will grab the stick and slide Down the strip like a slip 'n slide Platinum Rollie on the fist, we on a different time From my end, peel your wig, like a clementine Five big Cuban links on the kid intertwined, I'm in a bind Diamond bracelets, we not slaves, my wrists are tight Like we inside, this is flyness exemplified Niggas is pie, you won't squish a fly I'm not a french fry on the lunch line I watch the fiends smoke a dime out the can of country time Every line I write is butter but we're not talking country crock The product came from a Colombian guy The money's washed Marci I'll be here, to dry your tears You ain't got to cry, my dear A'ight, you be careful now You hidin' out there, when we find out where We gonna hit that, yeah Baby Yeah