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​Hands To The Roof

This song is by Bionic Jive and appears on the album Armageddon Through Your Speaker (2001).

I bang the whip in the parking lot,
Step out sparklin a medallion as I listen to the club hop.
Step in the spot head noddin, counting big faces,
Now IM plotting how to get the freaks out the silk laces.
OK, my formula right, two parts of the Congnac, one part shine of the ice,
Fake playa, cease you mouthpiece when I speak
Or you might find my name monogrammed between your girls sheets.
Game stay tight, spending money ain't a thing 'cause we recoup when the track let loose.
Hey yo what y'all want, you better bow to the mack, the playa, club predator, etc.

Keep pimpin' through the crowd, put your hands to the roof,
Whoop whoop, 'TIL YOUR MONEY IS MADE.
From my g's to the ballas and ballas up to the g's
WE ON PIMP, playa, hustla type shit


I'm pimpin' through the crowd, I'm off to the spot,
Where the ballas and g's congregate when they pop collars.
Look baby girl, you know my money is made,
Can I see your G-string in the back of the escalade?
Apologize when you know it's a playa,
Baby you can hate the game, but you know it don't change,
See it's like this
We keep it on lock, and got it made,
As we step in wife beaters and French braids.
Get with this, 'cause we immaculate, we bang hits,
Money stacking it, pop that Cris, pour me a glass to get her drunk
And make her give me the ass, holla back

Keep pimpin' through the crowd, put your hands to the roof,
Whoop whoop, 'TIL YOUR MONEY IS MADE.
From my g's to the ballas and ballas up to the g's
WE ON PIMP, playa, hustla type shit


Let's get the club up, show 'em how we came to get down
Let's get the club up, bounce ain't no standing around
Let's get the club up, get 'em from wall to wall till my fellas get money,
Till the ladies drop drawers

Keep pimpin' through the crowd, put your hands to the roof,
Whoop whoop, 'TIL YOUR MONEY IS MADE.
From my g's to the ballas and ballas up to the g's
WE ON PIMP, playa, hustla type shit