I like the way that you work it, baby, got every
head jerk, jerkin’ around, to see what’s on the stage and,
I live a simple life with stripper amenities, they
get me going like a Monroe to a Kennedy, yeah.

(Slap that ass, girl) Show ‘em what you mean
(grab that cash, girl) Be what you was born to be
(catch you out back girl) you take care of me
Gas, grass or ass, nobody ride free.

That’s the way a pimp be livin’, Takin’ but never givin’
Long Island, baby, sippin’, Be easy, girl, no trippin’
(REPEAT)

I like the way that you walk, when you be
swingin’ that ass back and forth, oh Lord, I swear it’s talkin’ to me
My window’s down, by the light of the moon you look like
Some kind of evil, baby…what you wanna do?

(she’s a bad girl) put her over my knee
(fight like a cat, girl) gimmie nails and teeth
(how you like that, girl?) put you out in the street
(now she’s a sad girl) but that’s the way it’s gotta be

That’s the way a pimp be livin’, Takin’ but never givin’
Long Island, baby, sippin’, Be easy, girl, no trippin’
(REPEAT)

The Ho’s I’ve known was gifted, the rooms I worked was lifted
Money was always shiftin’ from dudes, to dancin’ kittens
That’s just the way we did it, takin but never givin,
I could tell you stories, but listen, fuck all this reminiscin’

I operate in a state of confusion, it’s 10,000 watts of sexual illusion
And if you bringin’ the green we got everything you need,
(What’s you’re fantasy, baby?) Come dance with me…

That’s the way a pimp be livin’, Takin’ but never givin’
Long Island, baby, sippin’, Be easy, girl, no trippin’
(REPEAT AD NAUSEUM)

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Baby I got a lot on my mind tonight…
Knowin’ its all goin’ down about five,
and I’m feelin’ the burn from an early vibe.

And I know the low rides, the Melrose clothes, and homegrown vibes,
I’ll turn ‘em around with a groove laid down like a 3-day leave on a Tijuana high…

You say you need a little four-leaf clover? I seen you trick money, baby, bring it over.
Security is number one on my list; you want a taste of this? Ha, Well, first you gotta

SHAKE ‘EM UP
You gotta roll to win
TAKE ‘EM UP
Into my groove, locked in
RAKE IT UP
When my money flows in
YOU BETTER BELIEVE
I’m an American Pimp.

Caught your eye, ain’t no shinier stone than I…
I’m a human bling, I’m a lone smoke ring, blown cold like a breeze on a February night

Checked out of your rat race and I’m decked out in a pair of five nines
Go weak in the knees when you sees my Puerto Rican girl
Freakin’ the brass rails, now gimmie a light…

A plaid mini and six inch spikes…hair did pretty? Good girl, daddy likes…
I’ll break it down, no walkin’ tonight, I’m goin’ downtown, Hell yeah, that’s tight…now,

SHAKE ‘EM UP
You gotta roll to win
TAKE ‘EM UP
Into my groove, locked in
RAKE IT UP
When my money flows in
YOU BETTER BELIEVE
Yo, Andre, walk that walk!

(SAX SOLO)

SHAKE ‘EM UP
You gotta roll to win
TAKE ‘EM UP
Into my groove, locked in
RAKE IT UP
When my money flows in
YOU BETTER BELIEVE
Yo, Andre, walk that walk!

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Spent seven long years at the top of the world,
Bottom of the map with the pimps of earl
Kings in the hole with the ace up front
never call the bluff when your blades are blunt

Stacks were packed up, drums were racked up
Heads were burned out, tails cracked up
Flats were jacked up the bitches slapped up and
you covered your balls when the bass amp ramped up

we jacked the funk, turned the wild Goose loose to
pack up a flash pot and blow the roof
in the alley where the cyclones tread
Mother Nature couldn’t bust a head

Like “Ess”
(oh, yes…)
In the backyard buryin’ a bone
Rippin’ up your lawn, then we leave it alone.
Like a little bitty ball of snow
From on the top of the hill, we were lettin’ it go.

(Pause in memory of)

Crest Hill to Rockdale, down the county line to the river, we were
kickin’ out the funk and makin’ all the girlies shiver
No money in the bank, no heat in the winter
Not a penny for food, but eatin’ pussy for dinner

I can’t price the love, I can’t price that crew
I would have died for them…or maybe killed you
Got a finger? Throw it up for the downtown pricks in the 312
Where we would never live

They wouldn’t hear about a Joliet funk band,
They want a fuckin’ pussy Wicker Park punk band
So we listened to the bullshit, standin’ tall
Packed up the groove and said “fuck y’all”

Back down to the city we loved,
The city we lived in, the city we came from
And I remember all of the faces,
They were chillin’ with the old dog, Down in the basement

Everybody knows,
You wanna feel the flow?
You gotta go where the grooves are grown
And you can dance with two or you can dance alone
On the west side
(Down in the basement everybody’s shakin’) Did you catch your lover with your friend?
We got a hundred more so baby come on in,
You know, you never gotta wait
while Love Bone spins
On the west side
(Down in the basement, everybody’s shakin’)

Wave your hands up in the cloud
From a fat one Jimmy done passed around
You better hug the wall because you can’t fall down on the west side
(Down in the basement everybody’s shakin’)

You know we got the moves and you can bet your ass: we got your mama’s too
So you better walk tall, ‘cause that’s the way we ball on the West Side.
(Down in the basement everybody’s shakin’)

Go on, check the facts: we fought back to back
We laid fat bitches and funk tracks to wax
On a Friday night from a 9-ball rack to blackjack: the riverboat, we were rakin’ the tall cash

Drain the kegs and then we laughed our ass off
Gentleman Jack, when it was time to blast off
Big Al’s: watchin’ the gowns get cast off
Let the room spin, cuz I’m last off.

We funked the basement grooves, and
made the honeys up in Naperville wiggle and move
Then lo and behold, next thing you knew, the
other bands’ bitches were dancin’ too….

That’s the way it was, I never lie, hell no
Check my tongue now, how’s that smell, ho?
You wanna roll with the egostar?
You better bring big money to the back of the bar

CHORUS

And everybody knows
The bitter end just goes to show
You never walked alone
And I send this song with love
Back home, to the Westside.

[hide]

Here we go…

(I ain’t no rock star)
Got no golden rings and no ice, ain’t got no
Holly-wannabes tellin’ me Hollywood lies, you know, I made my money (until ’99) pushin’ HOs up poles every Saturday night…

(I ain’t no rock star)
Got no tribal tattoos or cliques, ain’t got no pieces of metal stuck in my tongue or my dick, I got a phat black truck & a matching V-Twin, so plop your ass on the back, ‘cuz now it’s time to begin…

(I’m a dirty funk monster)
I don’t need no hour to prove it, ain’t even cut to the chorus, already bitches are movin’, up in the balcony, come, baby, come to me…I Got the groove, it’s a gift, God told me to use it,
funk in my earhole,
got a beard I cut real low
got a mark on my chin, like
Robert DeNiro,
kinda funny lookin’, a crooked tooth in my grin, and I’m kickin’ this bump so hard I’m bruisin’ my shins….

And I ain’t no rock star, I’m a dirty funk monster,
And I gots the Motts, so come on,
Step forward if you want some
Mama missin’ her baby boy? Illinois lost him…
Rode the funk west coast, and now
Hollywood’s got some.

You know a “player” is s’posed to rap about money,
But I got none, so I’ll settle for bein’ funny.
Ain’t got no 22 chromes, or 20-room homes, I got a studio overflowin’ with grooves, though…

Smoke ‘em and drink ‘em until I’m ready to pass out, hit up the bars, make chicks dance with their
ass out, bare knuckle brawlin’, creepin’ and a crawlin’ along, I’ll thumb a ride all the way to New Orleans:

I’ll munch a Cajun shrimp, peep a little bit of tit at the Mardi Gras, baby, crackin’ the whip…Jack to sip, just like my daddy did it, flaunt a tight booty baby, I’ll come and get it, dig it: Ain’t never spitted no shit that wasn’t the truth,
I lived it,
And since the day I was born, I traveled
Double-fisted,
Picked up a cross, along the way, brushed it off,
kissed it,
No looking back, I don’t miss it.

(CHORUS)

I chill in my way and my way is way laid back, sippin’ my beer, writin’ lyrics and rackin’ up a tall tab…yo, darlin’, ring me a bottle of Sierra Nevada, and bring it cold, no glass.

I see bikers and chicks dressed up like Stevie Nicks, jailbait in bells, cut low on the hip, she’s teasin’ me…suckin’ a licorice whip?
you better back off girl, ‘cuz now you’re swellin’ my d---.

You want a little bit of
what Smack is gonna give ya?
Come over, my cabana got a pool in the back, and if ya wonder “Will he? Get a little bit silly? Free willy?” Put your head to rest, I ain’t gonna touch you…

(Really?)

Hell no.

So now you’re knowin’ the way that I’ll be livin’
Like every day is the last day I been given.
Whatever I feel, if I sing ‘em or I spit ‘em
SMACK’S LIVE, baby, come and get him,
You bring ‘em, I’ll hit ‘em with a steady

Groove, straight from me to you, bring your whole crew, I’ll do what I do. Gonna make you shake your fat ass around the room, I got an hour to kill, I’ll make your cookies move…

(CHORUS)

[hide]

I was alone,
A home-grown groove in my ear
The known road the only road I traveled in years.
No cell phone, no beeper, asleep in a chair when the home phone rang, danglin’ a job in the air.
So I pack up my bags, tie a rag in my hair,
One last bash, all of Joliet there,
Hands clappin’, back slappin’ and much beer,
Reminiscin’ ‘bout all of the shit that we had to bear:

Bar fights and nights packin’ lights
When it was 70 below and you fought frostbite
Invite the nice girls, who will, or just might decide
To treat you like a star on openin’ night.
Spot lights and cop lights to light the nights Ignite your might, move the mic stage right
Recite the lines from last night in your mind’s eye, and use ‘em to incite another riot tonight

I believe in my brothers,
In each and every one of us
Free in this dream we hold in our heads
I bled for this vision, I’ll stand by my decision
Don’t leave me to go it alone, We can win.

I didn’t know shit when I was down in the basement
I’d just go with it, flow with it, when the bass went:
Ba boom boom, guitar said Z-Zoom zoom,
My boy Tommy said “get back, now gimmie some room.” Yeah we grooved and we grooved,
We made a mountain move,
played it from 11 to 2, and I knew
what everybody knew,
What we were born to do
when we formed that group
and Dear Lord,
We poured
our very souls into

Every note
we wrote
Every show:
we proved we could do what
no other motherfuckers in this world could do.
So I’m askin’ you,
when the basket you
spent seven years weavin’
unravels, what do you do?
No band, left empty handed and
All of your dreams at your feet,
like broken glass?
Well, I don’t know.
I guess you pack your bags,
hit the open road
And you don’t look back.

(CHORUS) So this one goes out
to all of my friends,
To all of my people,
And all of our fans
For all of the cats who still run where I ran
For the family we lost,
and the lives that we still have
So put up a hand
if you been where I been,
Hold up a bottle or a shot then,
Knock ‘em back
Just chill ‘em and kill ‘em until the last man stands ‘cuz I’ll be damned if I ain’t gonna slam this fuckin’ track—

--be a cold day in hell,
no water flow from the well
before this
magnificent pimp in his “Fuck you” boots and bells
decides to give up
or call it a night
ain’t never quit yet
ain’t goin’ down without a fight.
I’m in it to win it
Gonna lick it and stick it in it
Keep your panties on, bitch,
I’ll just be a minute
I’ll bump it, you submit it, I spit it, you emit it
The Mojo that I need to make me get up and kick shit…

(CHORUS)

So now you know where all my groove come from.
Got more in my pinky than you’ll catch in a
one-ton drum, a thump-thumpin’
my beat’s b-bump-bumpin’
I got bitches’ rumps jumpin’ up
You never saw me comin’.
People gonna pump it up in a club jumpin up in a four minute marathon
Of bellies and bumpin’ butts and I’m bustin’ my nuts
Blowin’ dust off of cuts I cut in a seven year run around all the bitches who knew enough of the people you gotta know,
Owners you gotta blow
To get yourself a gig up in the city: Chicago.
No bones about it, I ain’t tellin’ no lies:
You know I wanted that shit,
I almost gave up an eye
I damn near died tryin’ to find a way to lie,
But, to them city bitches, lepers live in (815).
So I packed up my shit, and said a final goodbye:
Fuck you, Chicago, and fuck the horse that you ride.

(CHORUS)

[hide]

Baby you got me makin’ circles, wearin’ out my feet,
draggin’ through my days, and nights, I’m talking in my sleep.
I don’t need no reasons, why don’t you give it a rest?
I don’t need no woman putting my love to no test.

Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do
Takin’ up all my time,
You got me waiting here for you.
Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do
Wastin’ all my life…
You got me waiting here for you

Too dizzy to find your way? Too busy to make the trip?
You: evil in all your ways, another curse upon my lips.
I carry the cross I bear, you know I carry it every day
And I’d bear that burden ten more lifetimes just to hear you say

“Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do”
Takin’ up all my time,
You got me waiting here for you
“Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do”
Wastin’ all my life…
You got me waiting here for you

Lift me up, in the end,
I’m gonna be let down…
Sit me up at the edge of the bed,
You’ve got my whole world spinnin’ around…

So what’s it gonna be? Are we playin’ this game? Or are you playin’ me?
Well, I don’t know right now darlin, but one thing’s for certain, oh yes,
You better best believe, it might be with some other girl, but hell…
I’m gonna get what I need.

Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do
Takin’ up all my time,
You got me waiting here for you.
Baby you’re on my mind
And I don’t know what to do
Wastin’ all my life…
You got me waiting here for you

[hide]