Lyrics

Say UGK shit just ain't that solo shit Nigga this, that Bun B Pimp C shit nigga Well it's the Pimp and the Bun, we back in the game It's the Kingz of the Underground (ground) remember the name? I tell you niggaz got fat (fat) while Pimpin was gone Now you fixin to cough it up, yo' ass was dead wrong So it's best that you head home (why?) bitches the lead's blown Then half of yo' head's gone, we'll be buyin yo' headstone From the land where the Feds roam (for real) bleeders done bled strong While they packin that infrared so break bread and just get gone With them jazzy red-bones (bones) roam just like cattle (cattle) That's where you find them gangstas ridin tall in the saddle (saddle) Can't fuck with P-I-M-P or that B-U-N You thought that UGK went away bitch but here we go again Here we go againnnnnn (ohh, here we go) Here we go againnnnnn - thought what we had was over Here we go againnnnnn (ohh) Here we go againnnnnn It's the Bun and the Pimp (Pimp) steak and the shrimp (shrimp) Got my name cross the sky in a blimp It's UGK, I keep a trunk full of yay (yay) Swisha full of good (good) Robert Davis in my deck (deck) diamonds up against the wood (wood) I was gone for a minute, hoes tried to steal my dream Bun B kept it poppin fo' years back on the scene Got mo' better hoes now (now) boatload of money Think my belly got a cold cause my paint's so runny I'm so cool to the shit, nigga I'm certified Lookin yellow sad bitches and niggaz off in they eyes (eyes) You don't wanna see the Pimp free gettin paper (uhh) Here we go again, fuck the law, fuck the haters Now what's up with the tough talkin? What's goin on with the cappin? What's happenin with all that "I'm runnin the game" and you're rappin? You musta realized you the porter, I'm the captain of this vessel (yeah) Suggest to gettin out, commence to steppin Reppin niggaz like a gear-o, the game need a hero Not another fake-ass Pacino or wannabe De Niro A real pistolero bandito that's "muy malo" A certified from [?] sick artist to The Apollo That's mo', ghetto than Rollo, ask around, take a census Of fingers pointin back to the brothers in matchin Benzes We don't need no mo' friends (friends) got enough as it is (is) Cause we all about the biz bitch so here we go again Now what you know about it bitch? It's "UGK 4 Life" (life) A pistol to your Hilfiger, dick up in your wife Got the pound pump for three, cause you know I just pay one Nine past half hoes got ten then did none Man you know we got the [?] mention [?] goin for five I'm a step on that bitch twice, still spray water to your eyes When you hit it with the soda it's gon' bubble up and rise Got no cheese to get me up out this bitch, I'm goin lie Still signed to Jive, I'm Rap-A-Lot mafia (uhh) Trill Entertainment perfect, no it ain't no stoppin us UGK Records is an institution [?] freed the Pimp, it's goin down in Houston Ohh here we go - baby, woo!
Writer(s): Chris Jasper, Rudolph Bernard Isley, O'kelly Jr. Isley, Ronald Isley, Marvin Isley, Chad L. Butler, Bernard James Freeman, Byron O. Thomas, Ernie Isley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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