Can’t Slip

[Intro: Shawty Pimp]
Ah yeah, Shawty Pimp and DJ Ace, Part 2
For the 1995, you know what I'm sayin'
We finna kick some freestyle bump, you know what I'm sayin'
Kickin' with my nigga, MC Spade, Mysta Kang, and Lil' West, you know what I'm sayin'
We finna bump like this here
So check it out

[Verse 1: MC Spade]
Busters can't expect the MC Spade, but don't understand
Pimpin' from the South, deeply rooted with a masterplan
Punk motherfuckers try my patience but don't know what's up
Grab the grenade, pop the pin, blow them hoes up
Makin' sure I'm leavin' all them motherfuckers in the ditch
Let 'em know that MC Spade ain't to be fucked with
I be comin' hard for you niggas who didn't know I could
Reach for your nine, play dumb, nigga, I wish you would
'Cause I'm finna hit you in your chest and knock the wind out
Say somethin' smart, and I'ma have to take yo' ass out
With the nigga nine, nigga nine on my fuckin' hip
Reach for my left, grab my clip, 'cause I can't slip

[Verse 2: Mysta Kang]
Smokin' on some dank while I sip on a pint of Yak
With my niggas high as hell of that fat chronic sack
Ridin' through the park, blowin' A/C, while I'm chiefin', mane
Bitches lookin at me, 'cause they know a nigga ridin' clean
In that Cutlass thang, I park them hammers and then I scope the scene
Niggas gettin' J', 'cause they lookin' at me like they mean
But I got the .45 Glock restin' on the side of me
For a buster-ass nigga thinkin' he be on the creep
Makin' cheese everyday, yeah, that shit gon' keep on stackin'
Ain't barrin' another bitch, 'cause I'm packin' what you niggas lackin'
Droppin' gangster shit, kickin' pimpin', bitch, it don't matter
'Cause the M is comin' in, makin' my pockets fatter
I stop at the liquor store, get a fifth of Tanqueray
Cut up a Swisher Sweet, fill that bitch up with some hay
Glock on my hip in case a motherfucker wanna trip
Run yo' lip, you gon' be a victim of a pistol whip

[Verse 3: Lil West]
Once again, it's the West Smack, smokin' on a fat sack
With my Gat, that goes rat-tat-tat on the dope track
With my nigga T, drop after drop, sell, after sell
Then we bail, headin' to the mall, much clientele
Then we bail 'til it's silence, see, with bitches doin' tonight
High as a kite, watch your step, pimpin's tight
Roamin' through the door of [?], reap and strove, as we stroll
Hopin' nobody's scopin' me, watch out for DJ A-C-E
With the Glock that's cocked to pop and mail your punk-ass to the block
That's what you get when you fuckin' with niggas that's thrill into the best
Shut your ass, can't test me, come and see what I got
A twelve in my nine spot, take yo' ass straight to the ho-spot
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Oh, hell, bitch, Lil' West just dropped the fuckin' bomb

[Verse 4: Shawty Pimp]
Empty, empty clips in my chamber, shit, what should I do?
Never let them niggas know, Shawty Pimp gon' keep his cool
Time to straight upon and out, time to think of somethin' thrill
If I make it to my ride, got's to load that Nina quick
Tired from all that runnin' fast, but a nigga just can't slack
Will I make it to my shit? If I'm hittin', I'm comin' back
Open up my door, grab my nine from my front seat
Shots are comin' quickly, so that Nina gotta protect me
Back up, motherfucker, you done slipped with the wrong nigga
Now you got's to answer to my motherfuckin' chrome trigger
I'ma handle business, you can't fuck with the Shawty Pimp
Close your eyes, you gon' die, 'cause a nigga just can't slip