Mr. Lee - Bobby & Whitney lyrics

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Mr. Lee - Bobby & Whitney lyrics

[Verse 1: Pimp C] I know you hoes on a mission to steal my dick But Pimp Chad ain't goin for the Georgia, b**h (Georgia, b**h!) It wasn't nuttin when I saw ya b**h (saw ya b**h!) She knew that I was on some millionaire sh** Everythang I say is the truth (is the truth!) I need five funky hoes for one prostitute Just cause you sell p**y don't make you certified You ain't in it to win it, I can see it in yo' eyes WWW dot, "Wonder why I'm quickly gettin exposed" Breakin tricks for they money like a female is supposed ('posed!) I'm out in Neptune, on some Space Age sh** All my diamonds got paper, Emmitt keeping me legit ('git!) When the welfare was over, I be sellin c**aine ('caine!) I'm out in Las Vegas, takin over b**hes' brains (brains!) Tony Snow don't sniff no blow (sniff no blow!) Pimp hard on a cracker but I love me a crow (love me a crow!) [Hook: Pimp C] - repeat 2X I gotta big truck on some big rims I get my dick s**ed, when I pull out the Bent' These hoes jockin me, they wanna ride with me They gotta be down ho! Like Bobby Brown and Whitney [Verse 2: 8 Ball] Life is a game of inches You move up little by little to the fame and riches Life be a game and a broad of visions Some n***as is hoes and all women ain't b**hes And your reach? Keep the heat near Games, I don't play , I'm tryna make it clear You don't hear me n***a? Open up ya ears If you movin too fast, slow down and switch gears P.A. somethin, ya life give ya nothin The streets ain't pokin, you can get shot bluffin Cash rule everythang, keep that on ya brain Get rich quick, let pimpin do the blame Midnight blue with the peanut bu*ter guts Chrome on my feet and bump in the trunk Ball cap popped up, raised to the back Kush in my rillo, rollin big like Shaq [Hook] - repeat 2X [Verse 3: MJG] I'mma pimp, sellin hoes to a chick on the track Make my money, bend her or over, slap the dick on the back They call me M (Jayyy!!!) G, I'm the man in charge If you read this application, you'll change ya job I gotta order motherf**in rappers, teachers, preachers, and athletes All make a personal visit or to the backstreets I even gotta ho, play away With one rule, 'til ya gray, n***a stay away See I'm the reason why ya letcha girl stay at the house And beat her up cause my name couldn't stay out her mouth And I don't need to know if she just wanna join the team Get down and kiss all my royal marines I keep a Cadillac and I select a few in my car If you don't own one, then you ain't got sh** in ya garage I go hard, you motherf**as ain't breakin a ho You just flyin b**hes in, showcasing a ho [Hook] - repeat 2X