Lyrics:

Play your part... (Sweet Jones!)

My bitch a choosy lover, never fuck without a rubber
Never in the sheets, like it on top of the cover
Money on the dresser, drive a compressor
Top notch ho's get the most, not the lesser
Trash like the fuck for 40 dollars in the club
Fucking up the game, bitch you gets no love
She be cross country givin' all that she got
A thousand a pop, I'm pullin' Bentleys off the lot
I smashed up the gray one, bought me a red
Every time we hit the parking lot we turn heads
Some ho's wanna choose, but them bitches too scary
Your bitch chose me, you ain't a pimp you a fairy

Pump that shit up, pump that shit up
Pump that shit up, pump that shit up
Pump that shit up, pump that shit up
Pump that shit up, pump that shit up
Pump that, pump that
Pump that shit up, pump that shit up
Pump that, pump that
Pump that shit up, pump that shit up

Now walk it out, now walk it out
Now walk it out, now walk it out
West Side walk it out, South Side walk it out
East Side walk it out, North Side walk it out
Now hit the dance floor, and bend your back low
She do it with no hands, now stop pop and roll
I'm smoking bubble, ho, now they in trouble ho
I like the way she move, an undercover ho
It's on once again, Patron once again
I threw my head back, then I froze like the Wind
West Side walk it out, South Side walk it out
East Side walk it out. North Side walk it out

We're not gonna take it (You can show me how)
(Uh uh, no way, you can show me how)
No, we ain't gonna take it! (You can show me how)
(Uh uh, no way, you can show me how)
We're not gonna take it... anymore!
(Hey, hey, you can show me how
Hey, hey, you can show me how
Uh uh, no way, you can show me how)

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah

Ok, we poppin' champagne like we won a championship game
(Look like I got on a championship ring)
'Cause I ball hard (No bitch we ball harder)
I am the Birdman (And I'm J-R-uh)

Bitch I'm paid, that's all I gotta say
(What you know about that? What you know about that?)
Bitch I'm paid, that's all I gotta say
(What you know about that? I know all about that)

Bitch I'm paid, that's all I gotta say
Can't see you lil' niggas, the money in the way
And I-I'm sitting high, a gangsta ride blazed
If you ain't gonna ride fly then you may as well hate, shit
I gotta eat, yeah even though I ate
No, it ain't my birthday but I got my name on the cake, shit
Believe that and if ya mans wanna play
I'ma fuck around and put the boy brains on da table
Hey, pick 'em up, fuck 'em, let 'em lay
Where I'm from we see a fuckin' dead body everyday
Look, uptown, throw a stack at 'em
Make a song about me, I'm throwin' shots back at 'em (pop)
Your bitch on my pipe, she like a crack addict
When she saw me cookin' eggs, she thought I was back at it
I grab my keys, ho, I gotta go
I got my motorcycle jacket and my motorcycle loafs

'Cause nothing compares (What you know about that?)
Nothing compares... to you (What you know about that?)
(I was gettin' some head, gettin', gettin' some head
I was gettin' some head, gettin', gettin' some head)
Nothing compares (What you know about that?)
Nothing compares... to you (I know all about that)
(I was gettin' some head, gettin', gettin' some head
I was with the kinda girl that make yo toes curl)