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Pimp C » Slow Down
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	Quart a Mo' (whas happenin?) Sweet Jones I see a lot of niggaz in this rap game man Niggaz moving too mother fucking fast Y'all niggaz need to... Slow down (know what I'm talking bout, hol' up) Niggaz poppin pills, sippin bar, smoking fry and God knows whatever else Niggaz on that Malcolm... X You know like that nigga Breeze said, man the hood gonna catch up with you man You know what I'm saying? (Pimp C:) Peep up in the city with the hoes showing ass and titties I'm a ghetto star, and the game's a pity Cause most niggaz get took by the street fame And they can't hold on to their spot in this dirty game I see a lot of niggaz sign record deals But they fall off, cause they niggaz wasn't real But I've been in this thang since '92 Getting my money, doing what the hustlas do Through the wars, having no cars Going to jail, rapping behind bars Putting it down wit my beat When we was broke out on the streets Trying to come up on a motha fucking Swisher Sweet I used to sell weed, then I sold crack I used to ride in a old-school gold 'Lac Fleetwood wit' cherry lights I sold that bitch to that boy Moe, that's why we come down at night Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) (repeated) (Pimp C:) Bitch now I drive a big Benz (big Benz) And spend big money with my motha fucking hustling friends I don't buy the O, I buy the quarter-pound I'm talking Indo nigga, I lay these bitches down What's happening out in LA, LA When I'm out there with the Boo-Yaa Tribe And that's how I play (that's how I play) And I'm hollerin at Yuk and C-Bo too I hear whatcha saying and I'm a do what y'all wanna do Cause fuck niggaz need to get hit up Bitch niggaz don't deserve no truck Snitch niggaz don't deserve to fuck Nigga outta luck That's why your records ain't selling and ya stuck You need to slow down before somebody hit you up You need to slow down before somebody fuck you up You need to slow down before it comes to get you Hit you in your wig and ain't nothing to split you Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) (repeated) (Corey Mo:) You see this rap game is more than just rhymes and beats It designed to make money, it starts in the streets A lotta niggaz don't follow the rules and end up losing Way before their time, cause their records ain't moving Better slow down and rethink your strategy nigga Have you still paying dues, you can't be mad at me nigga I ain't looking for no handouts or looking for no friends (un-uh) My brother always told me nigga, go and get your ends And that's what I'm a do, it's the honest-to-God truth I'm a stay up on these beats and I'm a stay off in the booth So all you niggaz hating, waiting for me to fold I'm bout to shift to another gear and pass you hoes On the cool, I ain't nobody's goddamn fool Just like you pack tools, nigga I do too So in case you never knew nigga, you know now What you ought to be trying to do is on the real Is slow down Slow down (know what I'm talking bout?) (repeated) Hol' up, slow down, uh Get your mind on your money Cause your records ain't selling Nigga (repeated)
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