His mouth glows with confidence,

because his heart knows no consequence.

Poisoned by the streets, flooded with toxic waste.

His tongue will never know how freedom tastes.

Knowing only of his mothers loving arm,

She blessed him with good looks and tremendous charm.

When he speaks, his sentences are oh so clear,

And his looks will draw all the pretty bitches near.

 

He struts when he walks, cause he’s got the clout.

He got hip, and turned his high school sweetheart out.

As his bitch strolls down the block wearing monster heels,

He finally knows what it’s like to ride 20″ wheels.

With jewelry, clothes and hoes, he gains recognition.

And the older players school him on all the secrets of pimpin.

 

So his stable grows bigger, with fresh young runaway meat.

Some hoes even dying, but he blames it on the street.

Fox furs drape over a blood thirsty hound.

His walk roars as his alligators shoes hit the ground.

To His Hoes he’s the leader, The Wizard of Oz.

Draped in vines of emerald silk, and diamond rings with no flaws.

 

In time…

 

His porcelain mask starts to crumble, and he starts to get wise.

Riddled with guilt, seeing so many girls meet their demise.

He breaks down to cry, thinkin how pimpin’s so leathal.

He wonders what his mother would think, starts to his his bitches as people.

So with a big ole bankroll and a fresh chronic sack,

He turns the key in the ignition to his Fleetwood Cadillac.

Floating down the interstate to a suburban town.

Never forgetting his past, still wears a king and a crown.