Jay-Z: Parkin lot pimpin

[Jay-Z]Yeh, it's that knock right hereYou fuck around not have the right speakers in your systemyour shit be soundin like this {*funny sounds*}Big thangs, thick chains, ain't shit changedGet brain in the four-dot-six RangeShit mayn, switch lanesEvery town I hit you switch lames, bitch flip big 'caineI givin 'em whiplash when I'm whippin the whip fastWhich one? Pick one nigga, I got a six stashedContinental T's, no tense like I got a thick stabBig cigar, old money, when I drop it it's so funnySix-four switches, slam doors on 6'sBig trucks when I wanna fuck and it's time to get assI turn automobiles to hotels on wheelsI got money for a room it's just the fact that I'm trillBitches love when I cruise up the boulevardThey have contests to guess which car I'ma pull out the yardThey know I, come for dolo and pull off with a broadSpin away, spend a day tryin to pull menageJust Mac (??) God, the sunlight hit the ice it's flawlessRun lights like I'm the king of New York, I'm lawlessBitches, they wanna hang like plaques in the officeCause I push black Porsches, Benz's and Jaguars-esWhen the rag's off it, gat on my lap, I'm that cautiousNever trust grimy-ass New Yorkers'Specially when you're sittin on 20's they get nauseousStandin in the Azure with white air forces[Chorus: sung]You can catch me in the parkin lotHollerin at bitches, parkin lot pimpin'Everyday we be off the chainsWorkin with grain, sittin on them thangsTryin to find out where dem dollars at (dollars at)So when I holla at you, holla back (holla back)Everyday we be off the chainsAin't nuttin different, parkin lot pimpin'[Beanie Sigel]Holla at me mami! Sigel..You can catch Mac in the parkin lot, pimpin crazyS-5, Navy 'Cedes, sittin on 80That's four dubs, not S-4 dubStash box, push out Will like MatchboxBitches wanna push my world, they flash box160, push my wheel, mash copsCause 160 took my wheel to cash dropRun 60, you Big Will, match copLookin through the rearview and Mac was wylinNew driver, screwdriver, the cracked steering columnPushin somethin stolen, blastin, picture me rollinBaghdad, couldn't picture me ??Now the truth different, Mac come through Coupe roof missinI'm the truth til my fuckin roof missinMac stay stuck in the Coupe to school pigeonsFeathers 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 EscaladeSo I pulled up, murder to further my parkin lot pimpinTold 'em get the Impala so I can start dippinLay back, seat recline, they notice the handCar movin slow, driven by the invisible manEverything on the dash, digital andI got a fast stashbox don't make me spit at you manIn the parkin lot, where I spark a lotI come to show my new feet, slide off with a few freaksBleek, turn up the beats.... turn up the heat then we burn up the streets, bitch![Chorus 2X]