Parking Lot Pimpin'

[Jay-Z]

Yeh, it's that knock right here

You fuck around not have the right speakers in your system

Your shit be soundin like this [*funny sounds*]

Big thangs, thick chains, ain't shit changed

Get brain in the four-dot-six Range

Shit mayn, switch lanes

Every town I hit you switch lames, bitch flip big 'caine

I givin 'em whiplash when I'm whippin the whip fast

Which one? Pick one nigga, I got a six stashed

Continental T's, no tense like I got a thick stab

Big cigar, old money, when I drop it it's so funny

Six-four switches, slam doors on 6's

Big trucks when I wanna fuck and it's time to get ass

I turn automobiles to hotels on wheels

I got money for a room it's just the fact that I'm trill

Bitches love when I cruise up the boulevard

They have contests to guess which car I'ma pull out the yard

They know I, come for dolo and pull off with a broad

Spin away, spend a day tryin to pull menage

Just Mac (?) God, the sunlight hit the ice it's flawless

Run lights like I'm the king of New York, I'm lawless

Bitches, they wanna hang like plaques in the office

Cause I push black Porsches, Benz's and Jaguars-es

When the rag's off it, gat on my lap, I'm that cautious

Never trust grimy-ass New Yorkers

'Specially when you're sittin on 20's they get nauseous

Standin in the Azure with white air forces

[Chorus: sung]

You can catch me in the parkin lot

Hollerin at bitches, parkin lot pimpin'

Everyday we be off the chains

Workin with grain, sittin on them thangs

Tryin to find out where dem dollars at (dollars at)

So when I holla at you, holla back (holla back)

Everyday we be off the chains

Ain't nuttin different, parkin lot pimpin'

[Beanie Sigel]

Holla at me mami! Sigel.

You can catch Mac in the parkin lot, pimpin crazy

S-5, Navy 'Cedes, sittin on 80

That's four dubs, not S-4 dub

Stash box, push +Hot Wheel+ like +Matchbox+

Bitches wanna push my world, they flash box

160, push my wheel, mash cops

Cause 160 took my wheel to cash drop

Run 60, you Big Will, match cop

Lookin through the rearview and Mac was wylin

New driver, screwdriver, the cracked steering column

Pushin somethin stolen, blastin, picture me rollin

Baghdad, couldn't picture me?

Now the truth different, Mac come through Coupe roof missin

I'm the truth til my fuckin roof missin

Mac stay stuck in the Coupe to school pigeons

Feathers gettin plucked in the truck from loose chickens, listen

[Chorus]

[Memphis Bleek]

Yo, aiyyo I dip dip dive, what can I say?

I can't fit 'em all inside the Escalade

So I called up, murder to further my parkin lot pimpin

Told 'em get the Impala so I can start dippin

Lay back, seat recline, they notice the hand

Car movin slow, driven by the invisible man

Everything on the dash, digital and

I got a fast stashbox don't make me spit at you man

In the parkin lot, where I spark a lot

I come to show my new feet, slide off with a few freaks

Bleek, turn up the beats.

. Turn up the heat then we burn up the streets, bitch!

[Chorus 2X]