I'm still braved up and dripped out, reclining the top, straight up, out of H-Town and the
front, don't stop, watch the trunk just pop, and the front end hop, I'ma swang on these
boppers, I'ma climb these cops, candy red out the shop, I'm leaving paint on the streets,
sipping syrups like it bird smoking in those suites, out of state only plexus, cause the
plate take Texas, TV screen, younger than wrestlers, in my GS Lexus, from Atlanta to
Virginia, through the Sunset Valley, Houston all the way to Cali, gotta forfeit a ratty,
remember that bitch Sally, they didn't like her walk, but she still gon'
get * by Kiki in the hall, fat padded Mike D, what about poking the screw, we gon'
break up to the south and let the clique run through, it's real easy to see, that ain't
no * with me, I pimp the pen, once again, this is Lil' Kiki,
Long Sand Southside, still draped up and dripped out, pimpin' pen as long as I can,
puttin' it down, representin' to the fullest, long sand, L.A.L., gon' let them boys know
again, it's time to lay em down, let cars on the table,
big crib watchin', carry a gal, lickin' my name, who's the man, and who's the G, L to
the I to the L to the K to the E to the K to the E, that's me, heart of a hustler, mind
of a G, punk-ass niggas can't * with me, give me cocaine and a weird regular head,
pimp starts loadin' his hoes in check, bring a nigga there, give me no respect, like Blue
Pen right down the thick, caught off the drain, got a bag of the A-play, I hate niggas, they
want to try to get a guy like, I'ma have to kill, when I come down, chrome and blades
and wood wheel, pop another pill, damn food better,
chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill,
chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill,
Southside Houston, Texas, won't you tell me how you feel, make another meal, while
I pack my steel, breakin' boys off with my freestyle drills, hide in a hill, land up
the drill, pimpin' pens, hittin' skins, showin' them my skills,
.
.
If your hoes didn't know, then they knocked the back door
Cause I gots to go, one more time I'ma flow
I'm a freestyle pro, walkin' inside the club
And this man in the show
Houston, Texas is the home of the players and pills
Saatchi Dime with a lip across the sky in a blimp
I punch in clocks, don't like dumb jocks
I'm a player, I'm a baller, baguettes and rocks
Word strainer, entertainer in the eye of the public
Niggas love it, try to dub it cause I stick to the subject
Again and again, nothin' less than a win
You're for your friend, I'ma keep pimpin', pimpin', pimpin'
Just chill, and smoke a sweet for a second
Now I said we're showin' up to be tyrin' on records
Deadest stackin' them dollars, gassin' up my impala
No one knows a young G, don't wanna get swatter
So I'm tryin' to succeed on things a nigga need
The devil's beneath me, the God ain't no stoppin' me
It's syrup like Hennessy blowin' up independently
I done screwed up the industry
Now the devil's beneath me

Niggas be hatin' me, niggas be hatin' me
Because I'm a paper G, it's all about the real pep
But still ain't no fakin' me
Choppin' boards up, cause you know that I'm able
L.I. Hill, pimp to pen, I be pimpin' top tables