Табулатура в формате Guitar Pro , содержащая следующие дорожки:
Flute Melody
Piccolo
Flute 2
Baritone Sax
Orchestration
Timpani
Guitar
Electric Guitar (muted]
Synth
Brass Section
Bass
Acoustic Bass
Beat
Drums
Текст
[Jay-Z] Uhh, uh uh uh It's big pimpin baby.. It's big pimpin, spendin G's Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh.. Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah.. You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em Cause I don't fuckin need em Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good But I don't fuckin feed em First time they fuss I'm breezin Talkin bout, "What's the reasons?" I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch Better trust than believe em In the cut where I keep em til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up Let em play with the dick in the truck Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs Divorce him and split his bucks Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. parts with nothin, y'all be frontin Me give my heart to a woman? Not for nothin, never happen I'll be forever mackin Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion I got no patience And I hate waitin.. Hoe get yo' ass in And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah [Chorus One: Jay-Z] We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin G's Check em out now Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin G's We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B [Bun B] Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario Comin straight up out the black bar-rio Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh Oops, my bad, that's my scenario No I can't fuck a scary hoe Now every time, every place, everywhere we go Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!" Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit We don't pull it out over little shit And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me and you see us comin down on yo' slab Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it But nigga if you hatin I then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track Timbaland let me spit my pro's on Pump it up in the pro-zone That's the track that we breakin these hoes on Ain't the track that we flow's on But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man Fo' real it don't get no bigger man Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool [Chorus Two: Bun B] We be.. big pimpin, spendin G's We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin G's And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga [Pimp C] Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise