We Still Lyrics & Tabs by Dirty
We Still
guitar chords lyrics
[Intro: Big Pimp]
Ha ha, off the top
We back, Dirty Boyz
A new beginnin' baby
We doin' this thang with Nfinity, and motherfuckin' Rap-A-Lot
Black Klown forever
All my dirty boyz representing the motherfuckin' south
Alabama that is
Off the top, we still, and we still
[Verse 1: Big Pimp]
I'm a pimp to the first degree
The same nigga teachin' the pimp game to you
Shit, he heard it from me
Occasionally, I sack and hustle herb on the street
My cousin G say mac these hoes and leave the curb up to me
Shit, he heard it from me
Occasionally, I sack and hustle herb on the street
My cousin G say mac these hoes and leave the curb up to me
So I'm oblidged--to tell every girl that I meet
She wanna ride--she gotta get some dirt on her knees
It hurt'em to see, they baby mama swervin' with me
Left out your house with some pants but had a skirt underneath
She in the heavy C-H-E-V 350 rockin' with the shift kit hurtin' the street
She on the block like she workin' the street
But if I get her in my car, I'mma have the bitch slurpin' for free
Oh you say you wanna twirk for a fee? Well I ain't no trick, BIOTCH
I'll have your ass workin' for me
They call me Peter Wee, because I flirt with the freaks
But you ain't never seen me do it, you just heard it was me
And I'm is...
[Chorus: Big Pimp] (2x)
We still pimpin' hoes, we still gangstafied
We still ridin' vogues, we gettin' high
We still in the club, we still sackin' wood
We still on them tweety dubs, we still in the hood
[Verse 2: G-Stacka]
Now you know Gangsta stayin' blacked down, with a black 4-pound
And'll bust off rounds, in your chest until your back blow out
Cause everyday I hit the corner with a cracked up ounce
Them fiends see me, boy they start to do the Crackhead Bounce
And I got grams, grams, and grams of blow
Of pure white snow, I call myself the good-dope-store
You'll catch me deep off in the hood sittin' on all gold spokes
Or probably smokin' on that wood, sippin' that Hypnot-o
And my motto is: If you ain't gangsta, you ain't livin' right
And if you ain't pimpin' we got prescriptions that'll get you tight
I come from the street, so packin' heat is just a part of life
And game on your wife, freak her one night now she a super dike
And it's the same damn thang everyday, flood the block with ya'
They don't smoke if they don't pay
I got a tech-9 in my waistline that'll leave your smoke gray
And in the hood is where you'll find me on a daily paper chase
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: G-Stacka]
Now when they see me, hell they holla "Gangsta what you got for bout two bills"
I'll give your ass a ten pack of triple stack X-pills
And that's real, cause a nigga out here tryin' to live
I hit the block with a bunch of rocks until I stack me a mil'
[Verse 4: Big Pimp]
I shack/Shaq like O'neal, thirty-two O's in the grill
I point guard with G, but I coach them hoes like I'm Phil
Niggas ask what I'll be doin' if I ain't have this deal
And I tell them "The same thang for the last eighteen years"
And that is...
[Chorus]
