Pimpin' I get
from perverted biblical scriptures,
so they call me Bishop
But with 94 pot, it's just me against it
If the odds was even,
I'm still leavin' with your ho
-so, like Flo -Jo
Put her on the track,
till she bring some mo -do
Private eye tracker,
gumshoe detective, ass rapper
I don't need you trappin' me,
feds already tappin' me
Mad cause you hustle
backwards and yo gal
I attract em and adapt em
To come back with some more shit
than a handout and cold lips
She come back till you thank me for it,
that's a cold bitch now
Wipe me down with a smile
like ta -dao cause I'm on
Fix a plate of cheesy eggs and grits
cause I'm home
Siri, play my favorite Mike Jack song
and leave me alone
I need these thoughts to roam,
so they can form
In order to record and perform
these precious mo ments
I'm ownin' like I want
Would you lie for me?
Would you cry for me?
Would you ride for me?
Would you die for me?
By time she realize and I'm the one,
I'm gone
If I come back,
only thing have on is my cologne
Got shorty walkin' round
your compound
like she a nudist
Now nor mally I don't do this,
usually I be coolin'
But she ain't the type that come
a dime a dozen round the way
She the type that help you find
your safe or hidin' place
She the type you fixin' dinner,
fuck her, she ain't ate
She the type you get a taste,
you wanna scrape the plate.
Would you cry for me?
Would you cry for me?
Would