f*ck My Car lyrics

[Intro]
Check it out, 1996
b*tches still suckin' on di*ks
Hoes is trippin', mane
Choosin' they men by what kinda cars they drive
What kinda keys you holdin'

[Chorus: Bun B, Pimp C]
Now b*tches stare a n*gga down when he step to the bar
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
Look a n*gga up and down like he a superstar
But they ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin 'on me, they wanna f*ck my car

[Verse 1: Bun B]
Ay C ,keep yo eyes open for the boppers, car hoppers
Daisy Dukes out on the block, showin c*ck, traffic stoppers
Lookin' good spendin' some n*gga G's
Nails by Vietnamese, hair by Michi's, lookin' like they worth G's
Dress above they knees, jellies and G-strings up the ass
Man, I never let 'em pass
So tell me where can I find 'em
With they n*gga or in that candy Cadillac right behind him
[Verse 2: Pimp C]
b*tches tellin' me "C, yo di*k grand"
All she wanna do is ride Suburban
Put her ass on the leather, and rub the wood
See we got boppers in Texas, oh man, that pus*y look good
So I let them hoes ride and I show them a grip
But she blinded by the candy, she can't see I'm a pimp
When she told me I looked good, I didn't feel no pride
All the b*tch wanted to do is just f*ck my ride

[Chorus: Bun B, Pimp C]
Now b*tches stare a n*gga down when he step to the bar
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
Look a n*gga up and down like he a superstar
But they ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin 'on me, they wanna f*ck my car

[Verse 3: Bun B]
Oh yeah, these hoes think they cute in skin-tight catsuits
Assumin' that they body's too boomin' to dispute
But pus*y is the root of all drama
An attribute put up in they head by they mama
Oh yeah, I'ma tell it like it is, I sees how it goes down
n*ggas talkin 'bout how they passin' these hoes 'round
But y'all trickin', them hoes told me
Fools, y'all ain't Goldy, ridin' in a goodie, but an oldie
Fifty dollars there, a hundred dollars here
You bought the b*tch a drink and all her homegirls a beer
Your homeboys lookin' for ya, but yo ass gone
You left your n*ggas at the club and took all them hoes home
And didn't even f*ck—man, what the f*ck?
"If you didn't wanna f*ck, then get the f*ck up out the truck"
You know what I mean? I ain't showin' out hoes
Just so these hoes can be seen, come on, you wanna f*ck or cut?
[Chorus: Bun B, Pimp C]
Now b*tches stare a n*gga down when he step to the bar
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car

[Verse 4: Pimp C]
When you look at my chrome and you lick your lips
It's just like I'm rubbin' my di*k between your hips
And when you smile and shake your ass, my grill smile right back
b*tch, I'm the real, that's why I ride Cadillac
And I'ma f*ck you and f*ck all your friends
Soon as Pimp C come through in that 600 Benz
With burgundy paint, butter and AMG rims
Color TV, VCR playin' X-rated films
Of myself, runnin' up in beauty queens
But let me tell y'all n*ggas the difference between y'all and me
You see, man, I can tell all that b*tch wanted to do
Is just ride for free and smoke for free
But b*tch, not me, you better ask them hoes if my name Pimp C
Unless your pus*y makin' ten thousand dollars a week
The only way I see you sittin' in my passenger seat, you b*tch

[Chorus: Bun B, Pimp C]
Now b*tches stare a n*gga down when he step to the bar
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
Look a n*gga up and down like he a superstar
But they ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin 'on me, they wanna f*ck my car
Now b*tches stare a n*gga down when he step to the bar
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
Look a n*gga up and down like he a superstar
But they ain't trippin' on me, they wanna f*ck my car
But, b*tch, who the f*ck you think you are, by far
They ain't trippin 'on me, they wanna f*ck my car