Artist: U.G.K Album: Dirty Money Song: Choppin' Blades Typed by: Brandon_71360@msn.com [Pimp C] Uh...hol' up (hol' up) For all them niggas out there ridin' candy Know what I'm talkin' about? Uh...Uh...Blowin' on somethin' sweet, (uh) Goin' down (goin' down) Hol' up (hol' up)....uh Check it.. [Pimp C] Boys kickin' back, layin' in the shade Ain't nobody trippin' 'cause the money already made The 90s was for jackin', 2000 for the ballers: The drop top Jag or the candy red Impala If you sellin' big cheese, keep pushin', my nigga Polo horses on my bed - fuck Hilfiger I'm Pimp C, bitch, in the ghetto I'm a star I made this for the niggas tryin' ta chop in they cars...cars...cars.. Chorus: (Pimp C) Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em? Uh...I wanna chop blades Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em? Uh...I wanna chop blades Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em? Uh...I wanna chop blades Could I, Would I, Should I break 'em? Uh...I wanna chop blades [Bun B] Now, when I turn my knock up, and bangin' yo' block up Without pickin' my Glock up, I'm raisin' my stock up I got haters on lock-up...boy, they slangin' rock up And bangin' Makaveli 7, crankin' my 'Pac up Now, ain't no stoppin' when the tops start droppin' Hearin' Fat Pat rappin', your hat back capin' In a black 'Lac mackin' wit' a bop in a fade Boy, we fat stack packin', steady choppin' on blades...blades...blades.. Chorus: (x4) [Pimp C] It's time to hit the slab Benz sittin' low I'm puffin' on the 'dro, I got the pistol in the do' I pulled up in my ride, these hoes lookin' hot If she get up on my leatha, then her panties gon' drop I just can't stop...bleedin' my block Got some prime cut cock, I mean some private-ass stock They put it in they mouth and never say no Some nut-suckin' hoes, I mean some dick-suckin' pros That like to get exposed, and play with they nose And bend they pussy over, for my nigga, and touch they toes She do that shit for daddy, but them tricks gotta pay Just like E-40: Pimpin' in a major way It's all for the money She tryin' ta stay paid She steady breakin' niggas on them shiny-ass thangs I'm deep up in the street I'm tryin' to fill my nuts And later on I'ma try to skeet it on her butt...her butt.. Chorus: (x4) [Bun B] Say, nigga, I keeps my rims clean Shinin through a dim scene Got yo' bitch wetter than the captain of the swim team Steppin' out the Caddy, bitch, I'm fresher than Dentyne Slicker than Crisco, sweeter than Nabisco From Philly to 'Frisco where the Don be a Sisqo You better get some Blades if you still ridin' this ho Boys puttin' Swangers on Benzes, it gotta stop If you fittin' ta ride foreign, then, nigga, you gotta chop And Southern niggas still got the nerve to ride D's I ain't hatin' on Daytons, but it's 2000, nigga please It's all about the candy paint, it's all about the Vogues It's all about the slab, baby, it's all about the hoes Got some cars and some pros: some real and some fraud; Hated on by a nigga, hated on by a broad So long as J's sell, and them boppin' hoes slut I'll be ridin' chromin' blades, steady choppin' hoes up...hoes up...hoes up.. Chorus: (x16) [Bun B] Yeah...dedicated to boys choppin' on chromin' thangs Damn blades, know what I'm sayin'? Boys choppin' in the ??? Choppin' in that 4th Choppin' in the 5th Acres Home Southside MLK Southwest ??? Club ??? Boys choppin' on blades in P.A Up and down Gulf Way On the Westside Eastside Boys choppin' in D-town In that Oakcliff In that North Dallas Boys choppin' all over this damn South Boys even be choppin' up in New York Know what I'm sayin'? And that L.A.