Pimp tha Pen

[Intro: DJ Screw, Pimp C & Lil Keke]
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
Dirty red, little Courtney, the real, know what I'm sayin'?
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
Gigo, puttin' it down, in Dallas (I got a pocket fulla stones)
Little dirt in the head, know what I'm sayin'? (I got a pocket fulla stones)
Southside, screwed up tape, know what I'm sayin'?
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
What's up Lil Keke? What's up?

[Verse 1: Lil Keke & Both]
I'm draped up and dripped out
Know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Three in the mornin', gettin' the gat out the stash spot
Fire up a fat sweet
Turnin' on the bulb lights
Hand on the wood grain
Ass on the tight white
Showin' naked ass in the great state of Texas
Home of the players, so we'll never be no plexin' (No plex's)
So long we've been waitin', never ever hatin'
In Houston we Elbows (Elbows), In Cali they Day' (They Day')
So 1996 you hoes better duck
Because the world gon' drip candy and be all screwed Up (All screwed up)
Just pop in your grey cassette
Turn up your fuckin' deck
Lend me your ear because the Southside finna wreck
Down here we smoke tree
Then let the world see
True hidden talent like Screw, and Lil Keke
Ain't no love for haters and you busted dick suckers
On the southside, we stayin' paid motherfucker

[Intro: DJ Screw & Pimp C]
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
Know what I'm sayin'? It's Lil Keke, Big Troy
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
Know what I'm sayin'? Big Pokey, Big— (I got a pocket fulla stones)
Know what I'm sayin'? Al-Deep my little brother (I got a pocket fulla stones)
Screwed up click, what's up Ni Hao (I got a pocket fulla stones)
(I got a pocket fulla stones)
Know what I'm sayin'? That K-K (I got a pocket fulla stones)
It's goin' down, know what I'm sayin'? (I got a pocket fulla stones)
Lil Keke gone and tell 'em what time it is (I got a pocket fulla stones)

[Verse 2: Lil Keke]
It's time to lay 'em down like a fresh set of dominoes
For all the playas, all the pimps, all the bitches, and all the hoes
Who's the man, who's the boss?
Who's the nigga that's paid the cost?
I really don't give a damn cause I ain't the one that's gonna take the loss
Grippin' a Grant up in the slant, workin' the wood it's understood
Flippin these Rolls, and slammin' these doors
Pullin' these hoes and wearin' these clothes
Who in the hell was able to tell the southside they had to chill?
From hittin' the boulevards from belts and buckles, woman and grill
I'm poppin' the trunk and smokin' a skunk and pullin' up candy red
Sittin' on buck, not givin' a fuck and able to turn a head
Somethin' serious when I let go cause I got a way with words
I'm able to clown when using a noun to take the place of verbs
My lyrics go together like a pair of socks and shoes
My flow is slow because it's bolted down by DJ Screw
Take it from me, the nigga Lakee, the H, the A, the R and D
Menace to society, born and raised to be a G
I grabs the 'phone go on and on
2 or 3 songs I won't postpone
Cause these lyrics comin' from the very top of my dome
So many ways it pays, If you can flip the script
While movin' a tongue, you take a dose and listen close
Promise that you'll be sprung
Jacker's and hustler's, player's and mack's
Foreign doors and Cadillacs
Serve codeine that makes you lean and killer sweets rolled out the sack
All these thangs remain the same because I'm so able to win
All around just bow down
Because Lil Keke pimps the pen