My Alphabets Songtext / Lyric

That nigga this, that nigga that, where's Quik? Where's Tone?

Where's Hi-C? When's your album coming out, brolmes?

I'm more anticipated and most waited on

That I don't a fingernail, or break a sweat, or break a bone

I was born that night, but it wasn't last night

You want a toy to go play with, bitch?

Cause you're fuckin' with some dynamite

Watch ya phone, gotta get mo'

Ya get mo' in California in the Divisidero

And since you wanna report it?

Yeah, I crushed up some Crystal Meth, lined it up, and snorted it

Dee-dee-bah-hah-shabba-dah-bah

Well, when a pimp feel he had enough, he need him some mo'

(Hey Suga Free, why you blastin'?)

I don't know, motherfucker

Call that nigga you heard it from and go and ask him

I'm on parole cuz, and I ain't in the?

I'm in the scientific research to keep ya game hot






Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P

Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P



Cut the crap, biatch-ya can't con me

I'll cut ya ass thin as salami

Not Lonnie, Bobby, Ricky or Mike

I go bad like OJ, sav like Ike

Gesundheit, so cold you sneeze

Iced out grill, tattooed sleeves

Bitch leave, need no comprende

All I understand is this is?

I drink Rémi Martin

Flows on a cool nut, barking

Always cool nigga like me adore

When I see a whore, I can't ignore

I'm all in her face like an angry coach

Servin' her potions and antidotes

Hop in the range and it's time to go

She'll do whatever I say, she'll even be my hoe



Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P



Pimpin's been around since the first day

And I been utilizing my mack hand

Swingin' my back hand

Checkin' bitches on the daily, fuckin' with my paper route

If yous a broke bitch, it's time to get the fuck out

No disrespect but I'm a mack, that's how the game go

Pimpin' these hoes from Hunter's Point to Filmore

Mac Dre and 4-Tay keep it sucka-free

Three hundred and sixty degrees, ya feel me Suga Free?

Dirty dead presidents

Put a safety deposit box at my residence

Cus real playas stack a grip can't be hesitant

Maneuver on my cellular?

Drop top double double R's

Stackin' like Escobar

Gotta get that cheese

Cali niggas do it all

You need garage door opener, haters glancin'

Keepin' the feds off balance, they can't find my man



Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P

Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P

Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P

Mackin' ain't nothin but a thing to me

Because I'm a double OG P-I-M-P

Do you know your alphabet, Suga Free?

A-B-C-P