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If you a pimp, n***a, pimp them hoes. If you a thug, you better get ready for war. If you a hustla, make your dough. If you a gansta, let your gun smoke.

Took a trip out to Texas and I find real n****s, remind me of mine. A n***a can vibe, 'cause y'all some cold a** playa playas. Hey, there, Mo Thug and we gotsta give 'em some love, so now you're dealin' with the big pimps and the thugs. You get up too close and we fu***n' you up, you don't really want that 'cause I know these ain't no hoes you fu***n' with. Touched down and got with the realest n****s in the town. Now look who's in the Suave House, yes it's truly-yours, Mister Sawed-Off Leatherface, a warrior ready for war, a natural soldier boy, ready to move out, n***a, ready to get with the shoot out. In the meanwhile, I still gotta make me some money to get by. Yeah, I thought to connect, and hooked up with mjg, made money, 'cause all that other s**t don't mean a thing to me. But try to run up and I'm leavin' you stunned. Nobody will know who shot that pump, 'cause I'm gonna dump it and run. Put him on the pave, and hey, that n***a that did it was wearin' a Leather Face, and not to be played with. Whateve
Are you claim, you better get paid. S**t.

If you a pimp, n***a, pimp them hoes. If you a thug you, better get ready for war. If you a hustla, make your dough. If you a gangsta, let your gun smoke.

Who be I? The n***a who pimpin'-a plenty of hoes, look at the size of the bank that he hold. Natural born mind control. False niggas' gang blown away. It makes you wonder why n****s be hatin'. They jealous, they fellas be lookin' to take you under. It seems like the more that we get, you come with that s**t, lookin' for ways to drive us insane, confusin' our brain. I'm settin' up traps for rats who snatch cheese. Fly like a trapeze artist. Tell 'em to bring it on, I comes the hardest.

Mjg, pimp, runnin' with Bone, dividin? The throne. Regardless of n****s who stand in my path, I'm bringin' it on. Recitin' the lyrical gift, the s**t that give me the b*****s, the money, the cars. How do you know when you're goin' too far? The further you get, the further you are. S**t, I breaks in half crook n****s. Don't make me laugh. Now, huh, which ones the head and, huh, which one's the a**? Where your b***h at? Collectin' my cash. Now who would've know that the b***h is a hood-rat. Increasin' my stash, leavin' you fast. You're thinkin' I'm slippin', I'm grippin' the Tech. Look at the bullets, they rippin' his vest open, puttin' a hole in his chest. In piece is that n***a decide to rest. I'm leavin' you grievin', believin' in pimpin'. The s**t that I got is the s**t that I'm given. Constantly livin' that life of a thug, drinkin' the Hen, smokin' the bud.

If you a pimp, n***a, pimp them hoes. If you a thug you, better get ready for war. If you a hustla, make your dough. If you a gangsta, let your gun smoke.

Too many fake n****s done tried to contend, and then again, pinned that they couldn't win. Ken took it to the head with a fifth of Hen now I'm in the wind, 500 Benzo, we roll, roll. Rod J came through with the Mack-10. Wish trippin' when I pulled out the glock. You know that all of my n****s be ready this pop-pop, comin' with the heat cocked, 'cause it never did stop. Everybody I know out lookin' for a come up, we creep, it's deeper than the way you perceive a thug, no love, take a n***a through the mud everytime I try him from my wordly grudge. What? N***a we抣l bust till the point of no return, I'm out here swangin', paper chasin'. Erasin' my poverty and I gotsta be that soldier claimin' Mo! Even though it get hectic, respect it. N***a, knock my struggle, uh-oh, they'll gets more chaos and I won't stop till I piece this puzzle.

I'm a go gather up all lost souls show 'em the way to the road to be real, give 'em a deal, train 'em to kill, haters meet and my soldiers in a battle field. We marchin', ready for war, f**k the law, they ain't on our side. Hell yeah, we can meet up at the district. I'm bringin' it to you, ready to die. See, I am so sick of oppression, s**t ain't changed, Little Lay still stressin'. No question, clutchin' there no more weapon, 'cause the po po wanna sweat my blessings and uh, you抣l probably feelin? The sense of some danger, but I'm bringin' the sense of an angel to the table. Watch me put it down for Mo, and them Suave House n****s. So, willin? And ready to make a few dollars and split a few wigs. If that's what it is, you better be mindin' your business, or be beggin' forgiveness. You know all I'm sayin? Is, just don't f**k with me, man.

If you a pimp, n***a, pimp them hoes. If you a thug you better get ready for war. If you a hustla make your dough. If you a gangsta, let your gun smoke.

Yeah... Bone Thugs. Mo Thugs. Eightball, the fat mack, and mj-fu***n'-G. The realest n****s alive, yeah. Thuggin', pimpin', b***h, this s**t don't stop. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? All over the muthafuckin' world and back again, b***h. Space-age forever.

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