Ha ha ha!

This is real baby, this is real

They love this



[Chorus]

Just sit back and relax, Bentley seats in the back

Lil' momma we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN)

Candy paint on the 'llac, shoes bigger than Shaq

Chrome beamin we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN)

Picture a scene from The Mack, picture me on it like that

Quick get in, we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN)

Yeah I rap and I act, God could be where I'm at

Lil' momma we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN)



The P-I-M-P, the pockets are filled deep

The cars are sick B, the bars is milky

He hard to kill G, the God is real deep

The Coupe Deville leanin, pinky ring freezin

Creep with no ceiling, keep the chrome beamin

Cold with no feelings, rollin, dough pealin

Cruise the track, candy paint on the 'llac

Shoes bigger than Shaq, lil' momma relax

What he wearin on his back, is never off the rack

Todd Smith custom, all the ladies lust him

They with him, he crush them, we talkin 'bout a mack

A purebred dog, not one of them alley cats

Thorough to the max, Q-boro matter fact

Ice so sharp it slice through your cataracts

Hard from the wars, he tough as a battleaxe

Don't hate him cause he hot, God put him where he at

Fo' sho'!



[Chorus]



Truly got the bottles on chill, the models lookin ill

V.I.P. locked down, crackin them hundred dollar bills

Yankee hat low, Todd Smith the rhinestones

Your chick chose him, let him bygones be bygones

All these, amateur macks with they eyeballs watery

Choosin honies over money that's how the order be

Meanwhile he gets his statements quarterly

Your starvin on the corner actin drunk and disorderly

Relax in the Maybach, gettin your booze on

Seats is like a couch, get your Tom Cruise on

French pedicure with the Jimmy Chu's on

He wanna see more he throw somethin smooth on

The modern day Goldie, game better than Kobe

Style dope than codeine, playin for his own team

When he walk up in the spot, he lookin so clean

Rubbin money in your face like cold cream



[Chorus]



Yeah yeah...