Solomon Childs - Pimp Talk lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Cheeba-cheeba y'all, yeah I'll show ya pimp something, man Pimp ya girl, show ya how to pimp Out with the old, in with the new [Chorus: Solomon Childs] Bow-wow-wow, yippee-yo, yippee-yay New York City in the motherf**in' house Bow-wow-wow, yippee-yo, yippee-yay The Dirty South in the motherf**in' house I said, bow-wow-wow, yippee-yo, yippee-yay The West Coast in the motherf**in' house If you a pimp, then you gon' pimp for life Kick ya gators off, you in the motherf**in' hell [Solomon Childs] Winter skate greens, to them orange Pataki's The gators and khaki's, the paranoia keep you running from the reefer A pimp that's b**h as big as Queen Latifah O.G. style, rolling on the boulevard with gold chrome Ya rolling on foot with nickel plated grown Pimp, master your jiggalo limp, listen Just cuz Stevie Wonder blind, that don't mean he ain't a pimp Just cuz Richard Pryor slow down, after his b**h a** got burnt That don't mean he ain't a pimp Just cuz Muhammad Ali, shake a little That don't mean he ain't a pimp Just cuz Christopher Reeves can't walk, in the Superman suit no more sh**, that don't mean he ain't a pimp Solomon, player... [Hook: sample] It's your thing... do what you wanna do I can't tell ya, whose side to choose It's you thing... yeah, do what you wanna do I can't tell ya, whose side to choose Yeah... [Solomon Childs] Cla**y, see how I treat them hoes That's why them hoes keep it cla**ic And truthfully speaking, I'm a pimp player So you can never pa** me player Confident with mine and myself I jump back and kiss myself You see a pimp, kick your feet up Trick on what, drink on who Got the ladies screaming, S. Childs Give me one more chance A rapper's groove so smooth, P. Diddy'll dance Whoo, child, pimp life kid daddy G-Mack 'em daddy, I sell water to whales And sell poppy uptown c**aine scales I sell a carpet to nails Done pimp the wardens in most jails Electrifying, pimp talk Hotter than the third rail Straight to the stomach like Valentine ale Smooth, and about my chips But alert a motherf**er if sh** fails Come on [Chorus] [Outro: Solomon Childs] For sure, the Theodore And don't be getting all upset When your girl at the club and she dancing And throwing it up with the gangstas It's a new time, a new place Staten Island, we now own the City Bloomberg, come up off the keys, you b**h a** n***a