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Lyrics

Pump p-p pump pump p-p-p pump
Pump p-p pump pump it up
Pump p-p pump pump p-pump p-pump
Pump p-p pump pump it up

(Just Blaze)
Pump p-p pump pump it up
We gon' do it like (uuh, uuh, uuh)

Lyrics continue below...

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Look, pump it up if you came to get it crunk
With a dame and shit that's drunk
You came to get it on
More than five O's in your bank then get it on

Roll up like that stank and get it on
Slank that fitted on, came to get it on
Hold up, she wanna work that, twerk that
Then again let me hurt that, murk that
'Til you got a hurt back

Can't spit it out, boo, you gotta slurp that
Can't cuddle after we done, it wasn't worth that
Joey, I'm responsible for bringin' Jers' back
And we bad, huh

She at the bar stylin', she throwin' it up
She drink a little hypno, throwin' it up
But I'm only dealin' with freaks that wanna cut
Ma, if you agree I wanna nut
Camcorder, get it played late night on BET Uncut

Fellas – do your thing, let me do my thang
I mean, do your thing, let me do my thang

Shorties – move that thing, mami move that thing
C'mon, move that thing, mami move that thing

Hustlers – do your thing, let me do my thang
Please tell the DJ, pump-p-p-pump pump it up!

I see some haters grillin'
I see some ladies chillin'
I see that girlie I been plottin' to get
We can hop in the whip
And we can pump p p pump pump it up

Okay, we was leavin', we was done
Then she said, "Can my peoples come?"
Here we go, I see it don't stop
They wanna ride in somethin' where the rims don't stop

Look, baby, you fine, but your girlfriend's not
And then she wanna hold out gettin' cute on the phone
I ain't gotta be bothered, be cute on your own
My jump off doesn't run off at the mouth so much
My jump off never ask why I go out so much
My jump off never has me goin' out of my way

And she don't want nothin' on Valentine's Day
My jump off don't argue or get rebellious
And she don't mind hangin' out with the fellas
My jump off's not insecure or jealous

Fellas – do your thing, let me do my thang
I mean, do your thing, let me do my thang

Shorties – move that thing, mami move that thing
C'mon, move that thing, mami move that thing

Hustlers – do your thing, let me do my thang
Please tell the DJ, pump p p pump pump it up!

Y'all dudes keep talkin' 'bout your ice and all the shine to it
That's a white gold cross with a real fine cubic
Ma wanna fall in love like I'm cupid
Tellin' me she don't give brain like I'm stupid

You can do anything if you put your mind to it
Get it? No? Think about it
The game is bad, playa – ain't it bad, playa?
Don't worry, Joey'll change it back, playa

Mighta heard me spittin' with Cain and Fab, playa
I got the set boards to bring it back, playa
Bang and clap, playa
Frontman no longer playin' the back, playa

Plain as that, playa
Eight O Eight's pumpin', bang the track, playa
Want my second wind? Change the rap, playa
Jump off one-man-gang, I'm back, playa

Look, what you want, bump double click pump
Ride, ride, swamp, dump off homie, jump off
All these haters on my (huh) won't jump off
When all the streets need is J-J-J Jump off
J-J-Jump J-J-J-J-J-Jump off, uuh, uuh, uuh

Fellas – do your thing, let me do my thang
I mean, do your thing, let me do my thang

Shorties – move that thing, mami move that thing
C'mon, move that thing, mami move that thing

Hustlers – do your thing, let me do my thang
Please tell the DJ, pump p p pump pump it up!

Fellas – do your thing, let me do my thang
I mean, do your thing, let me do my thang

Shorties – move that thing, mami move that thing
C'mon, move that thing, mami move that thing

Hustlers – do your thing, let me do my thang
Please tell the DJ, pump p p pump pump it up!

Writer(s): Ronald Bell, Robert E. Bell, Richard Westfield, Robert « Spike » Mickens, George M. Brown, Robert Spike Mickens

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