Lil' Jon & The East Side Boyz
Contact lyrics
Songwriters: Glaze, Jamal; Edwards, Lawrence; Norris, Sammie; Jefferson, Lamarquis; Smith, Jonathan; Prince, Donnell; Love, Craig
Yeah, yeah, yeah, like I said this is your boy Pimpin' Ken dot net
Sell the bitch pussy till it's drip drop wet
You know what I'm saying, the vet, not the pet, dig this here man
Like my nigga Cashball, you know what I'm saying, me and DeAnte say
Man, it's "Stacks, tracks and contracts"
You know what I'm taking about
Only time a bitch get off is when a bitch run off
You know what I'm talking about, hey man, you understand me
Master constitution for the prostitution
And let prostitution be the only solution
Please believe it, you understand it, bitch
You know my choosing fee bitch
It's a lifetime, bitch of ho crime
Believe that ho you know what I'm talking about
Yeah, bitch you know what I'm talking about
Don coochie hole bitch
Better known as pimp coochie hole
Pimpin' Ken the Don in this shit ho
You know what I'm talking about, yeah
Milwaukee, Wisconsin you fuck-ass bitch
As I pull up to the club, jumping out of the Jag
24's still spinning with a dealership tag
Brand New, bright leather guts and pearl blue
These hoes they choosing like a lucky horseshoe
But that's alright 'cause I don't pay these hoes no mind
As I stroll to the front of the VIP line
Straight in I go, headed straight to the bar
I got a superstar status, so I guess I'm a star
Haters checking me out, now tell me what's that about?
I'ma chill to the point haters checking me out
Sipping on the Crystal, bitches wanna get wild
Popping X and smoking dro' on the verge of my style
These bitches calling, asking where the after party
The Embassy Suites downtown, room 112, my darling
Bring your friends so we can let this party begin
And bring a box of Magnum rubbers so we can fuck till the end
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause you belong to me
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause now you're mine
Just pulled up at the club, I'm flyer than a motherfucker
Damn, why they staring? Ho, shit I'm the motherfucker
Not the front door, we better go through the back
See, that was back then, now look where we at
Straight to VIP, my niggaz, man we deep
You gonna go through 2 or 3, before you get to me
The bitch, and she a G and said, "What's up for later?"
I said, "I'm 20 East, I'm headed to Decatur"
And motherfuck the hater, it's about this making paper
And while she choosing hard, guaranteed I'ma take her
So shake the saltshaker, the dro' is the vapor
I ain't got love for niggaz 'cause all they try to do is cake her
I ain't sippin' on no chaser, that's what we tell the waiter
You goddamn right, I'm a motherfucker player
So tell me how you want it, you riding? Get up on it
I ain't fucking with the ho if she don't know how to donut, for real
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause you belong to me
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause now you're mine
Never will I love a bitch, why would I trust a bitch?
Always gonna dog a bitch, they only good for sucking dick
Or riding on a nigga cock, trying to get a nigga stock
I'm never gonna break bread, not even for a little head
I'm a player, not a cake-a-ho, always gotta break ho
Down to the fucking floor, you step up, I'll let you know
It's MOB, BME, P to the I to the M P
No, I'm Southside, sorry, bitch, you better pay me
Old school white Lac pimpin' like I'm Don Juan
When I pull up on the track, I toot-a-loo my horn
Make these hoes come running like Mike for travs
Ain't got my money ho, you bound to get slap
'Cause I don't love a bitch and won't save a bitch
If it ain't about money, then it don't make sense
I'll mack a bitch and I'll pimp a bitch
As long as she making me filthy rich
Just up off the pill, drinking on my beer
Sitting on a mill, but I'm pimpin' still
Riding round the track, like Goldie in the Mack
Still I'm Don Coreleone pimping hoes from my realm
Mesmerized by the words, they coming out my mouth
So I'm flushing money quickly out these bitches' bank accounts
After that I bounce to another ho, in a totally different city
For a whole other show
They say, "Why you don't call?", I say, "Bitch, where my dividends?"
"You always out of town" I say, "Bitch, where my dividends?"
"You probably in the club", I say, "Bitch, where my dividends?"
You 'bout to make me break your neck, I have to ask your ass again
I'm Don a.k.a, "Stay pimpin' hard"
That mean hoes gonna march winter, summer, spring and fall
'Cause I have to ball, there's no other way
Even if the bitch's pregnant, there's no Happy Mother's Day
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause you belong to me
Hey bitch, sign your name on the dotted line
'Cause now you're mine
If you get out line, I'm a slap you out
I'm a slap you out, I'm a slap you out
Better have my money
You better have my money, bitch
'Cause you signed your name on the dotted line
So get off your ass and get on the grind
Forgot what I am, bitch? What am I?
I'm a pimp in every inch of the word
Every inch of the verb
Every inch of the curb
I'm a hit it, like the lottery baby
Better believe it, hey, yeah
If it's pimping you wanting, pimping you needing
Everyday from me
But bitch that's all I can see
Any day of the week, when you fucking with me
If you fucking with me, you better get your ass out there
And make that motherfucking money
Rain, sleet or snow
Rob, steal and kill for a motherfucking pimp like me, ho
Contact lyrics © Wb Music Corp.; Swizole Music; Don P Publishing Inc; Emi Blackwood Music Inc.; Lil Atl Publishing Inc; Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp; Cashing Checks Publishing; C'amore Music
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