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Lil Sum Sum Lyrics

"Lil Sum Sum" was written by Lindley, Samuel C. / Round, Denise / Smith, D..
"Lil Sum Sum" was written by Lindley, Samuel C. / Round, Denise / Smith, D..

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Mic check
Mic check
Mic check
C'mon

I'm a professional, pimpin' like rational
Worldwide, but it's national
You betta ask them hoes and ask them clothes
Who dat smokin' beeds

Talkin' bout she fast to go
And blow like Curtis
Double off in the lex
Let me see if she worth it

Gettin' by so perfect
Gettin' by so perfect
Last year I was mackin'
We climbed but you grabbed too

DJ play the slow jams
Sippin' don, never bro-ham
Oh damn, smokin' beeds
Smokin' beeds in my lex-land

Pass the beeds to the next man
Put it out in the next hand
Police on my day bew
Now who's them pimps that stay true

They do, uh huh, motherfucker we done made you
So you can blaze too
It's the pimp that laid you
I know you see me in the video's

And the radio recognition like a center fold
Analyze to a nigga bigga flow
It's the hoes with the tight shh
They used to the right shh

Baby girl, hit your lights quick
See would the mic fit, say hello, some some
Check 1, check 2, brand new
And it's all for you

Bump the AC through the vents
Still ridin' with the darker 10
If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense
Well, hit the beed' and let me do my limp, uh-huh, uh-huh

Baby girl, where the mob at
You can get paid where the jobs at
Ho' in ain't the word disregard that
3 men in the cad straight dime sacks

And their gators on, now who started that?
Must've been a po P
Standing on you P 'cuz a brotha makin' mo' cheese
And I reach to the door like the oldies

Saw me in the club better night then I hope is
Do you wanna have sex?
Lay back in the lex
2 rules in effect

No stains on the seats
Strap up with the tex
Just tell me what you wanna do
But you know a brotha want you

Flip a penny if we want to
Heads or tails on the scale even if a brotha fails
I'll be losing clientele
But I'm still back to haunt you

Baby girl, come chill with me
You could learn a lot of skills with me
Lay back and be real with me
Make money on the side

We can dine and collide
Like it's supposed to be
What it meant to me?
'Cuz you still need a man to make plans to advance you

Take a chance and you'll dance too
Uh-huh, mic check, mic check, brand new
And it's all for you

Bump the AC through the vents
Still ridin' with the darker 10
If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense
Well, hit the beed' and let me do my limp

I know you're lookin' for the top notch
Hennessey take 2 shots, alize just a few drops
Our pimpin nation not to block
Get a fade and amazed when we do shots

Get the digits to my new spot
Not the old gotta new flaw
Come in pairs like 2 socks
Me and you against the world like 2Pac

And I hope you got your crew locked
Can we puff to 2 glocks
Why you actin' like your too sharp?
In the caddy get you juice-nark

Better known as A to the mother fucking K
And um, if it's love that he want
There's no faded, umm
See I'm a pimp and it's all mine

You dropped your man now your all mine
I'ma player so it takes time
Defeat the purpose let me greet you
Better yet say the name and I'ma meet you

PHD with a see-through
Did he pay? So we move
Baby girl, just speak smooth
Haters hate what we do, paper chasing for thee group

Well, let me go back to front, front to back
In her face did I do that?
Get the Philly's and the green from the back
Got the good game from the breeze and the macks

To the mall and yes, gotta ball, gotta dress
Domp hat with the rest
Head shoes and the vest clothes that I
Suppose that I put 'em all to the test

But you can never be me though
You can learn as we grow
Spittin' game with a neat flow
But I never play games turn around pretty cheap hoes

CD's, where the weed go
And I love the way she ride and collide with her deep throat
Remember me in the C A D I double L we ride
Down the ave and the AC's high

You can walk or do you wanna ride
Get high, you and I, uh-huh
Mic check 1 2, and it's all for you

Bump the AC through the vents
Still ridin' with the darker 10
If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense
Well, hit the beed' and let me do my limp
[Incomprehensible]

Bump the AC through the vents
Still ridin' with the darker 10
If it don't make dollars then it don't make sense
Well, hit the beed' and let me do my limp
Mic check now

Mic check
Mic check
Mic check

Songwriters
LINDLEY, SAMUEL C. / ROUND, DENISE / SMITH, D.

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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