Hands To The Roof

I bang the whip in the parking lot, step out sparklin a medallion as I listen to the club hop. Step in the spot head noddin, counting big faces, now IM plotting how to get the freaks out the silk laces. OK, my formula right, two parts of the Congnac, one part shine of the ice, fake playa, cease you mouthpiece when I speak or you might find my name monogrammed between your girls sheets. Game stay tight, spending money aint a thing cause we recoup when the track let loose. Hey yo what yall want, you better bow to the mack, the playa, club predator, etc.
CHORUS
Keep pimpin through the crowd, put your hands to the roof, whoop whoop, 'TIL YOUR MONEY IS MADE. FROM MY G'S TO THE BALLAS AND BALLAS UP TO THE G'S WE ON PIMP, playa, hustla type shit
IM pimpin through the crowd, IM off to the spot, where the ballas and g's congregate when they pop collars. Look baby girl, you know my money is made, can I see your G-string in the back of the escalade? Apologize when you know its a playa, baby you can hate the game, but you know it don't change, see its like this we keep it on lock, and got it made, as we step in wife beaters and French braids. Get with this, cause we immaculate, we bang hits, money stacking it, pop that Cris, pour me a glass to get her drunk and make her give me the ass, holla back
REPEAT CHORUS
Lets get the club up, show em how we came to get down
Lets get the club up, bounce aint no standing around
Lets get the club up, get em from wall to wall 'til my fellas get money,
'til the ladies drop drawers
REPEAT CHORUS