I went from rappin' about the clothes I was wearin' at a party,
To all the hos that let me see their naked bodies.
It's not an overnight transition thing,
I wasn't born pimpin' hos, wearin' pinky rings.
Never walked around sayin', "Who am I?"
'Cause when I seen old movies like "Superfly,"
It was my destiny, to live a pimp legacy,
And reach levels other niggas never see.
In '81 I rapped friendly, but now its on.
One day I said somethin' on the microphone
About sixteen hoes, suckin' ten toes,
People loved it, that's how the story goes.
It's true, in 1982
Me and Freddy B sold the tapes to you,
X-rated, talkin' 'bout bitches and thugs.
All the dope-dealers gettin' rich sellin' drugs.
Too $hort bumpin' in the background.
You thought I retired, bitch, I'm back now.
Like a house party, or a side show,
I got the Spanish, black, and white hos.
Ask an east Oakland nigga, I bet you he know,
"Is she mixed with Japanese or Filipino?"
I always spit the game when I rap.
All I want to know is where the hos at?