E-40 Album

[No lyrics]

I flipped a Lexi, speed up and catch me
Lexus of Concord, reached out and touched me
Some of you hoe fake ass niggas like Roz, be messy
I know some beautiful black intelligent women, they're sexy
E-40's back and blackened
I don't be barkin, nor even high cappin
You better watch me, I'm comin smebbin
Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven
Bet your persodian, 30-R-6-castodian
Special shout to Casual Del the Souls and opium
About the town, the Valley-Joe
Just like a democratic, I'm for' the po'
Fuck the bumble, New Clik Shit ain't no punk hoe
Pedestrian stumble sound like a gorilla
tryin to get up out of a trunk hoe
Continue strikin it, hope you likin it
Filthy McNasties at the bus stop hitchhikin' it
Every egg that I pull in bulges
When it comes to spittin I'm ferocious
Management in cabbages, Savage
Hangin out when all the sudden I'm eatin ham sandwiches
All day, everyday, 40 play, he say
She say, bieetch! that-a-way
Keep it goin though - don't stop
Shakin baking soda, forms a rock
36 steps on a triple beam scale
Burn the duct tape but keep all the ya-yo
Rip a peel, extra crisp, really really
Ate it like I'm a specialist
(Drisidrisomina?) is the illest zaggin
Thinkin I put cause like this
You know I'm (puzackin'?)
M the mornin, cookin bacon
From the ghetto in the bullet-proof apron
Here comes the laws, valium crushin through my balls
I rip my drawers runnin from the canine cocaine-sniffing dogs
Some niggaz hate me, some niggaz love me
Some niggaz shake my paw, some niggaz mug
I see ya tweakin, I see ya peekin
Y'all bootches with me, why you sleepin?
A motherfucker ain't gotta be Flash Gordon
always runnin up the backstreets in a batch
That having a hoe protect the shit won't work
that batch just wants your scrizzach
Lettin em know, preferred zodiac sign Scorpio
See the breeze soldier, V-A-L-L-E-J-O
Never show witness to your
Never leave your crib with out your pepper, beeotch!
I'm tryin to get legal with it
Open up a shop cotton candy and licorice
Cash in stashes, that's a must
We leavin with a million and that's a plus
Don't get it twisted, don't try to find me
Might be in Switzerland, or Hawaii
1-2-3-40, wheels new shoes scrappin toe to toe
Crack black jack and keno, strike sideways hit Reno
Ball cappin, no smilin
Sittin lo somethin profilin, beeitch!
Fuck the bumble, you bitches it ain't no punk hoe
You clits it ain't no punk hoe

(Outro chit chat)

Oooh oooh

Flashin' (*belches*)
Oooh

I'm gone off that boy and dog food, Purina Chow-Chow
Pow Pow, hot lead on a nigga head G-style
Never understood, grew up in the hood
Never knew right from wrong
Get to dumpin on a nigga for nothin for no reason
Mannish little knucklehead, hardhead heathen
Meanin, give a fuck about life, I seen my momma
stab my daddy in the stomach with a knife
when I was three years old, finally figured it out
That's why a nigga sold coke, clientele and clout
Without a motherfuckin doubt, take a nigga out
for tryin to goaltend a motherfucker paper route
Wet his ass up, fat lady single
Fully automatic converted by my whiteboy arsonist
fire extingusher, if you ain't spendin with me then motherfucker
you betta damn sure be workin for me and that's real as fuck
Either that, I get your jaw wired up, pathological liar
Dope game got me like this, murder for hire
Smokin more bomb than Cheech and Chong, I'm SAYIN
Hit up Denny's resteraunt and order a gang of food
Run up out of that prejudiced fuck-ass motherfucker
without even havin any n kind of intention on even payin
Damn near flashin, that's what the fuck I'm doin
and I'm blastin up in this motherfucker
I got my motherfuckin weiner out and I'm sayin fuck the world
I'm pissin on everything, fuck it, nigga I'm flashin
I'm actin bad
I got all kind of marbles on the motherfuckin table
and I'm tellin a motherfucker you touch my shit and I'm flashin
Understand my shit, the situation is way damn real
Motherfucker I'm drunk off the shit
and I'm breakin bottles on the pavement, I'm flashin
Nigga I'm out there bad I'm poppin in the air for nothin
Nigga for no apparent reason I'm DUH DUH DUH DUH check it out

At this, got it fired up, choppers in the back of the truck
about to light the nigga crib up
Bang bang shoot em up claim fame
Got a little to my name, slick as sugar cane
Three in the mornin it's hard labor chasin paper
Nigga twerkin, go to several Russian car
Cluckers comin through with VCR's
Microwave ovens and credit cards
Pullin all kind of heavy metal straps
Beatin bitches down with bumper jacks
L-R-P's bitches overseas shoot craps
Tryna to have more paper than a fax
Motherfuckers gettin to showin out when they off ecstasy
Liable, to fuck a hoe on her menstrual cycle
Vital, lookin out for the rival tribal dead on arrival
Psycho, it's all about survival
Quarter ounce zippers is on
Run up in his home while he slappin bones
with the chrome pist-al, pistol-whip a nigga
with a zap board, Zenith hammer, Arm and Hammer
bakin soda, listenin to the scanner
Scared man can't win, especially when I'm paper packin
Fetti stackin, mashin, flashin

I'm flashin, the Elroy's pulled me over
and put the flashlight to my window and told me I was speedin
and I got to, fa-lashin on they ass
I got to actin like a demon the motherfuckers told me
the other day I go to turn off my P-G-and-E
Nigga and I got to actin bad and I got to flashin
on a motherfucker, motherfucker come out there
talkin crazy to me lookin at me crazy up in the motherfuckin sto'
and I said, "Bitch I'm F-ah-lashin!"
Don't let me get to flashin on yo' ass nigga
Motherfucker up in the club, and a motherfucker step on my shoe
and I got to fa-lashin!

It's all bad, motherfucker used to be my comrade
Used to fuck the same hoes, wear each others clothes
Closer than a booger to a nose, choosin vogues
Slammin Cadillac do's together, cookin crack
and make these zippers back, overkill
Put the whammy on the whoop, be on the lookout
for the state troop, might shoot
Durin the drug deal, flippy at the mouth
Voluntarily ratted your motherfuckin folkers out
Tight about since Little League, Boy Scouts
Paper route dropped a dime to get some days dropped
I'm uh, I'm ooh cranky, moody like a old hag
Shit gone get hella stanky if you square snitch-ass
sucka butt-ass niggaz don't bring me back my motherfuckin duffle bag
Consequences off the hinges
Lean ballin, alcohol and weed
A thousand dollars worth of chump change, chicken feed
A criminal record a full of dirty deeds
Givin niggaz black eyes and bloody lips
Cauliflower ears and extra clips
Gun clappin music slappin party crashin
Blastin, motherfucker flashin

The holiday just came on the first second and third of the month
Made my check late and I got to, flashin on motherfuckers
Next door neighbor hollerin that shit about my beat too loud
I walked up the motherfuckin steps and I got ta
tellin that bitch I'm F-ah-LASHIN
Send a rookie to the store to bring me back some Rossi Ron
He brought me back Chablais, and I get to FLASH
on that bitch ass motherfucker, silly nigga
Yknahmsayin? A motherfucker up in this motherfucker FLASHIN
Get to testin my testicles nigga and I'ma FLASH on yo' ass
Behind my back and it get back to me and I'm flashin
Lost all my money up in the dice game and I FLASH
Didn't let me up in the Club Cafe Echelon and go to FLASHIN
Dopefiend ran off with a hundred count of my defense and I FLASHED
B of A wouldn't cash my faulty money order
so I took it to Scottie's to keep myself from flashin
Bought $250 worth of liquor and they tried to charge me
for some ice and I FLASHED
Got jumped outside a house party and my fools left me for dead
when I got home I seen them motherfuckers
and they ass was in the red, I got to FLASHIN
I tell ya, bitch these niggaz I tell ya
Shit I tell ya, SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT BITCH, shit!

f/ 2Pac, Mac Mall, Spice 1

[E-40]
I'm really not all that sure
bout when things is finna mature
So let me find me a nigga with a grip
and hit his ass quick with one of them whoops
(What's the definition of a lick?)
Taking a niggaz shit
(Hey put that on sumthin)
I put that on The Click, The Click
Back to fuckin work one of the homies jus got dusted
Time to do some dirt, uhh, I never trusted
them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival
Now the town is funky, it's called survival
What y'all wanna do? They got us scuffled
(Well if uhh, we can just uhh) if "if" was a fifth we'll all be drunk
I'm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me false
We had a meetin, shit 'posed to been squashed
I noticed one killa on the double dribble and set him up y'all
She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball
Thick ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker
Scarecrow creepin Southern bitches, aka Posie Pussyfictious

[Spice 1]
Nigga been holdin guts, but shit on hisself and a funky bill
Pullin out bills, frontin on material shit
that's when I get to killin shit (killin shit)
And settin 'im up and havin 'im catchin a couple of slugs
Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta fuck with savage thug
Pistol pop in they ass, see niggaz be gettin this twisted
It's that bitch that killed ya
Took all your money peeled ya
Seven niggaz bust in the room with AK's
while a nigga be puttin on his jimmy
All of a sudden they shoot up your Vuitton
before you can hit the broccoli
See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn't make that money
Left them niggaz jacked up, and the bitch she macked him
He's a busta, punk ass nigga, y'all know the streets
That's why that nigga naked layin dead in between some bloody sheets
It's just a part of the game he didn't feel
Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill
You don't know that hoe main that bitch can't be trusted
Dusted and di-motherfuckin-sgusted

Chorus: E-40

Some cold hearted shit
Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do
Cold hearted bitches
Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted them bustas
Some cold hearted shit
Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
I never trusted them bustas
And it's them cold hearted nigga
Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
Dusted and disgusted

[E-40]
Let's let of some two or threes on the other side of t-uh-town
Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town)
And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin range
Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games
Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will prevail
by sellin the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine
try not to steal narcotics
When these punk MC's and bitches be the reason why
the smoke be comin up out the chop, with my nigga 'Pac

[2Pac]
Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin sick
I'm in my rag hittin switches I'm suspicious of these bitches
I keep on, calllin, but ain't nobody pickin up
I think she's stallin, this evil bitch is tryin ta set me up
Came all alone if it's on then it's on
Where's my motherfuckin chrome, only jealous niggaz roam
It's a war zone (war zone) but I'm a man so with gun in hand
I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the fuckin plan
Can't understand, but the things ain't the same
You could die over these bitches if you slippin in the game
Niggaz gang bang, but bitches gang bang too
Give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain
If you a smart figure, don't have no love in your heart nigga
Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted
Bitches can't be trusted, you know the rules
They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin fool

(These hoes out here tryin to hold a nigga's heart
So a nigga get his money fucked with
Almost in-laws)
Hey be proud of it when you turn these bitches upside down
What's gonna happen
(Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if
a bitch ridin)
(Yeah main, them hoes talented
They be fuckin with mo' MC's at Jack the Rapper)
(Aight fuck it, what you say Mall?
Ay, fuck them sheisty ass bootches, nigga)

[Mac Mall]
The California lifestyle that I live
Where the bitches is crooked and niggaz jus don't give
a flyin fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin on the tay-low
Bay Area playa, tryin ta have shit major
And a bitch won't save ya
so I ain't playin Captain Save-a-Hoe
I mob up in ya like a pro and then I'm gone
I'm like Sylvester Stallone, everyday is like a Cliffhanger
Action packed, I let the mini-mac smack that ass

[Spice 1]
Them hoes jacked that ass
Nigga woulda got smokin on that hash
Can't have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash
Cuz he's a busta, niggaz with clusters
Slippin in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass bitch
Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink)
You love them Bootsy bitches, can't let them pussy bitches

[E-40]
gank that ass, betta hide your cash and check her fast
Pump your brakes nigga, slow your roll don't go too fast
Cause bulletproof ain't doin no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'
now, niggaz comin up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin floor
damn, hollow points to flesh tears through the teflon vest
Now r-uh-rest
Pull a plug on a flatline over those, one nigga less
One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West
Crushin the flesh, dem bitches played a game of death
Look over your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it
I'm tryin to told ya end up dusted

Chorus

Uhh, I come from nothin
Come up, I come from nothin
to get it crankin right here
Right here?
Turma-turmoil, torment and turmoil
Uh ooh
We been in bondage for years
For how long?
Trapped up in the ghetto
Yea that's true
Dang, I got a dream though
Fiction
Tryin to make my own progress
That's fictionary

[E-40]
ZOOM!
Even though the streets mob filthy, lights burned out (out)
Dopefiends die with antennas in they mouth
Niggaz are starvin, some of my niggaz is havin they cash
Niggaz is ballin, parkin they car, all on the grass
Livin it up to the fullest platinum colored jew-els and organized glass
Not none of that old fake ass costume jewelry, that looks like brass
I'm lookin out the window while you play Nintendo
You drive a Navigator, I drive a Pinto
I was there, nothin polite, me and my fools
The ghetto, field mice and rat drippings up in my shoes
A rebel, without a pause, commodes n stars
No toilet tissue, dirty doodoo stains up in my draws

[singers]
Ooh zoom, I like, to fly far away from here
where my mind flows on, it's fresh and clear
And I, found a love, that I long to see
And people, who be, who they want to beeee, ho!

[E-40]
I never had, lobster in my life (or what?)
or teriyaki steaks, just sardines and spam and cornflakes
Pacific Bell done put me on restriction once again
I can't call out, but you can call in
Can barely think straight, barely keep focus
My crackhead cousin spent the night (what we got) now we got roaches
(Damn!) Here lies my property, no composure
Six months behind on my mortgage, house under fo'closure
Momma ain't feelin too good, she diabetic
Scared of needles hospitals ambulance paramedics
And I'm the oldest of fo', sleepin on the flo'
Watchin TV channels we used to borrow cable from next do'

[singers]
Ooh zoom, I like, to fly far away from here
where my mind flows on, it's fresh and clear
And I, found a love, that I long to see
And people, who be, who they want
Who they want to beeee, yea! HAHAHHHHHH!

[E-40]
I seen it in a dream, a big white home, looked like a office building
An old school Brougham with a sunroof ceiling
Thug living, sixty-four ounce of drinkin thinkin
"How could I come up, and purchase me a Lincoln?"
Drug dealin, leelin and dealin tryin to make a million
Blood spillin, driveby walk up to that nigga peel him
Back then I was blind, penetentiary chance at jail
Livin off my gahl for hella long she worked at Taco Bell
And if the heater ain't workin and it's freezin cold
We open up the oven and turn on the stove
Survival, granddaddy's appreciation revival church
of pentacostal, we raised money by givin car washes

[singers]
Ooh zoom, I like, to fly far away from here
where my mind flows on, it's fresh and clear
And I, found a love, that I long to see
And people, who be, who they want
Who they want to beeee, yea!
Iiiiiiii...

f/ B-Legit, Mac Shon

Intro: B-Legit

Mobb shit bitch
I know you know
But check game doe

Verse One: B-Legit, E-40

I'm in the S-E 4-double-oh
Sitting real low, stick in the flo', oh
The hoe want me to come swoop
Take her for a ride in my blue Lex Luthor (Lex Luth-ah)
But the bitch ain't got no gas fetti (gas fetti)
So I burnt her like Fast Freddy (Fast Freddy)
Hit me on the first when your mail has come
And maybe we can go to the mall or somethin (to the mall or somethin)

Heavy ass shit for the mob -- for the mob
When I make a zillion I resign -- I resign
I'm realer than a hundred dollar bill with the line across
When Christmas come around ask Santa Claus
Santa do you know E-40?
Bet you that nigga say "That's my homey!"
We used to perv grind curb trip to my grandma
Kahlua with them brandy almost every day

Cardiac is cool, but I'm on gin (on gin)
Santa bought me, a new Mac-10 (yeah)

Yeah, Click shit makes a motherfucker's night
Niggaz listen to it cuz it's light
Crooked twisted unlisted on the highways
We riding sideaways, beotch!

Chorus: Mac Shon

I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Back up the Coupe and roll sideways")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Made a left at the corner cuz it was hoes")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("I'm looking for a big seat")
I'm riding sideawats, this way thatta way
("Hoes see this type of shit and go reala...")

Verse Two: B-Legit, E-40

I'm riding city to city (city to city), me and Leviti
So get your toilet paper cuz it's gon' get shitty (gon' get shitty)
I hit the highway goin East (East)
Twenty-two ounces of yeast (yeast...)
I'm playin this game cuz a nigga my age be
I met her last night and today she paged me
Wanna know if B-Legit can kick it tonight (what else)
Only sixteen, way too tight

But age ain't nothin but a number -- number
Baby got her hair done by Shanda -- Shanda
Nine nine ten, eleven and up
If you bleed, you get fucked -- fucked
No not me, not fo'-oh -- not fo'-oh
I break the bootch down with a two by fo'
Eryfuckinday is a holiday, celebration
When the bitch is actin crabby that means she's on her menestration
I be like fuckin em like dissin it to the highest -- highest
Talkin more shit than Kalidous
A str-uh, strizuck out in my Cutlass Supreme on a Friday
(which way we ridin) Riding sideaways... beotch!

Chorus: Mac Shon

I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Doing about a buck fifty")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Danked out, and full of that Cisco")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Pervin swervin runnin all into the curb and")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Bout a gallon to the dome, then that's the hit")

Verse Three: E-40, B-Legit

See I'ma hogg nigga, Beverly Hillbilly
Neckbone, socks, tails, pork'n'beans and chili
Just like my nigga Celly, we likes to kick it silly
Regurgitate and kick a bootch move up out the telly
Cause they out there bad ain't satisfied
Hoes just wanna be pacified
But I can't do no justice cuz the justice ain't to be did
BEOTCH! You usin too much red

Now I've been known to break niggaz off (off)
Hard type or soft, line em up chalk em up as a loss
See me in the parking lot doing my thang (yeah)
Love to see my old school dance in the rain (kick it)
The po-po's came then they closed up shop (kick it)
Smashed through the Hood and we made that hot (yah)
See the shit don't stop (stop) motherfuckers pop (pop)
Seven-deuce drop (drop) Coney air shocks (mmhmm)
Riding through the shit like Racer X
And if a motherfucker flex break back and necks (back and necks)
Running red lights and the right-of-ways
(How we gonna get it doe?) We get it sideaways, beitch!!

Chorus: Mac Shon

I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Late at night up and down saying hi...")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Be trapped trunk, Stark Boulevard")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Come here you little hard-ass boy!")
I'm riding sideways, this way thatta way
("Niggaz like to hear this type of shit when they crawl")

w/ B-Legit

(B-Legit)
What's up fool, I got like 3 buck on the Rossi
Let's go get perved
(E-40)
You don't wanna get perved, nigga
You don't wanna fuck wit this Rossi shit
(...)
Man, don't forget the ice man
(E-40)
Oh, you want something to
O.K.

(Chorus)
Top of the line wine, Carlos Rossi
Drinkin' on some of of that top of the line wine, Carlos Rossi

(E-40)
Top of the line wine Carlos Rossi, man
I drinks it all the time it's extra satisfying
Three of four times a day you can catch me drivin
Back and forth to the liquor store buyin
Jugs and jugs of tha shit cause I'm addicted wit no denying
Perving, swervin rannin all into the fuckin curb and
If I get one more D.U.I. then it's curtains
I can't cope, I guess I'm a alcoholic sometimes I hit the chronic
It's just like gin and tonic when it's time to get erotic
5.99 for a big ass bottle of Rossi wine it's right on time
Once you become a member of my drinkin' club you will find
The key to set ya free so give it a try
But don't mistake it for Chablis unless you already high
Spread the word get sprung and drink it with ya down chromes
That's another word for sohobs, potna, folks, homies
Every motherfuckin' year
We do this shit every other fuckin' day if not every day
But anyway I want

Chorus

(B-Legit)
Hocus motherfuckin' Pocus
The top of the line wine, yeah nigga that's the dopest
And if you in The Click, them motherfuckers notice
that we be downin jugs from the tallest to the shortest
Everywhere I go, people wants to know
What's the name of that shit you and the Click be like fuckin' wit
I keeps it on a hunch on the ... cause brother I be perved
Fuckin' wit some shit that will send you to the curb
And if you wit a bitch, then nigga you nice
Cause Rossi goes good wit some dank over ice
Take her to the telly let the wine fill her belly
Fired up some smelly then ya jammin' like jelly
Bust a couple of nuts, hit the butt and than the grill
Dick hard like I did time up in Vacaville
But still I be bossy
(E-40)
What you fuckin' wit though?
(B-Legit)
Fuck wit some of that top of the line wine
(E-40)
Yeah nigga
(B-Legit)
Carlos Rossi

Chorus

(E-40)
Sunny day, sky blue, shit, I think Imma barbecue
Let me get my ass up outta bed and call up the whole motherfuckin' crew
Ray you bring the chicken, Kaveo you bring the links
Mugzy you bring the hamburger meat and I'll supply the drinks
Shit it's good to be on damn it
I got Suga-T in the house whippin' up some potatoe salad
4 slabs of ribs up in the refrigerator marinatin'
Bring home the .. I got tha .. and I can't be waitin'
Well, what do you know, though the door comes Kaveo
(Kaveo)
You know!
(E-40)
Mugzy and Tap that ass, T-Pup and Hell and Moe
Thick ass niggas like B-Legit and E-Duece
.... Mac Shawn, Mac D-Shot and Little Bruce
The man behind the counter of the liqourstore loves me
Be ... and ready to hug me
On the strength that I done spend
Over a G within a week on the Carlos Rossi

f/ Too $hort, K-Ci

Where them naked hoes at?

E-Feezey!
Too Scheezy!
We off the heezy fo'scheezy baby!
Off the heezy I thought you theezy!!
Niggaz ain't havin no cheesy like us main!
They ain't havin no raveez!
Shit.
Haha you know us.
Where K-Ceeezi at man? Tell him sing that shit.
Lace dem fools or something.
Beotch!

Chorus: K-Ci

Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Everyday you're at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false

Verse One: E-40, Too $hort

I put my mack hand down ain't never been asound
I was havin b-r-e-a-d way before this rap game nigga been town
Thought you theezy, for sheezy, niggaz 'member
Earl, Brat, and Denell dem boys from Vallel
At every light it's automatic, BURN RUBBER
See my folkers in the traffic, WHASSUP ERB
Follow that cab it got dope in it, uhh
My potnah $hort got hoes in it

I'm always hearin rappers big ballin on they songs
I do that shit for real and you'll never say I'm wrong
S-500 straight sittin on twenties
TV in the dash pimpin hoes gettin money
I'm Too $hort baby been down since the eighties
For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes
Lexus, trucks, drop-Vette, Caddy
Bitches don't call me by my name they call me daddy

Chorus

Verse Two: E-40, Too $hort

K-Ci $hort E-40 Fonzarelli
I'll probably never have long money like Ross Perilli
But shit we just want a hip
Don't want the whole plate
Don't put the two on the ten, don't ever perpetrate
Like a lot of these fools I see on TV
With the Armani Chanel Versus Versacci
Why motherfuckers can't be broke sometimes?
Sometimes it's cool to floss
But don't buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car
Before you buy a house

They always said I couldn't rap, I just say bitch
I guess the bitch, made me rich
And now you wanna call me hardcore
While I be steppin out the shower on a marble floor
I paid the IRS taxes send FedEx and faxes
This industry'll is like fuckin, fat bitches
All work and no play, I do it everyday
anyway cuz I gotta stay paid 40

Chorus

Verse Three: E-40, Too $hort

We throw parties on big-ass boats, niggaz wrap they paper
Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica
Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, shamrock and severin
Long expensive fuh-flights, up dere in the heavens
Fat ass royalty checks, fat ass cribs
Smokin blunts and drinkin brew on the blacony, barbecuin ribs
The more scrilla, the merrier
I represent the Ya area

I walk from Foothill and Paperscourt to Sixty-Seven MacArthur
To Freddie B house to make tapes with my potnah
Hit Arroyo Park, we had tapes for sale
Got a paper bag full of that, can't you tell
it's funky, everybody nod they head like this
I said bitch, and everybody read my lips
I got rich, suckin up the game from the O
and even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow
I survived cuz I got mo', game than them
It came straight from the prostitutes, players, and pimps
It was my destiny, I came the same every time
So don't question me, I transfer the game in the rhymes

I'm not a freestyler, don't rap for free main
It's Paystyle on mine, cuz I love money main
Landrovers and Toyota, Lexuses
Six-hundred feet twelve with them big ass motor Mercedeses
We don't be savin hoes, bitches be savin us
Bitch disrespect me in my car, bitch best to catch the bus
I keep a briefcase full of game, while y'all be ear-hustlin
Ain't no paperback pimpin nigga, we ain't strugglin

Chorus

Verse Four: Too $hort

I'm Shorty the Pimp, I come funky
Again and again, they say when will it end?
Maybe never, cause I can still spit it
But I ain't rappin for cheese, I want meal tickets
Gotta start somewhere, and I'm past that
For the right scratch, I be the last mack
So stick yaself Pretty Tony
You tryin ta make a hit, but your shit sounds phony
Not like AT&T but like ET
You can't be me, so would you please see
If you can keep my name out your mouth
Cause you don't really know what the game's all about
It's bout feedin the family, not freakin in the Benz
Instead of rentin, pay for that roof on your head
And stop pimpin in your mind knowin you a trick
Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick
Bitch!

(That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli, K-Ci)
Damn is that right?
(That's right)

f/ The Click

Chorus: E-40 and 'Hoes'

Ah is a, Ah is a, Should I save her?
I want to be saved!!!!

(B-Legit)
It's 1993 and niggas need to miss me be savin' these hoes
You know how these tricks we be buyin' 慹m clothes
Wanna taxi hoes on vogues with the beat
And have 慹m sittin' next to 慹m in the front seat
But not B see I'm a hog up out the V
And my motto is fuck a hoe and hit the throttle
To the smoke talkin' on my Okie doe
World wide I got a clydes up in Tokoyo

(E-40)
Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane
What's that niggas name?
Captain save a hoe main
More faster than a speeding bullet
To put on his cape and scared
I put the fake the fake the funk the funk
To me that's not the way to do it
Captain muthafuckin' Save a Hoe game to me
Flexin just like a little ol' bitch
All up in front of my company
Had to check his ass with an ear check dump and pumpin'
Talkin' to him while I'm beatin' his ass
Pumpin' fear talkin' bout nigga you gone retrospect somethin here

Chorus

(D-Shot)
Mr. super trick Mr. super snitch
Yeah, you wanna kill me cuz I fucked ya bitch
You should had your cape on tight that night
Cuz a nigga like the Shot sho plugs 'em right
And now yo batch is straight callin me lovin me
On the under for the porno star that I be
And don't you come in my face with that trick shit
Ya betta try some more shit

(E-40)
I got the gift to grab any batch
That I want but I don't
Cuz batches now a days will get you caught up in some funk
Oh no, I'm not tryin' to save you hoes 'n
How come when I was broke you wasn't brown nosin'?
The other day you see me smobbin' down magazine
With some ol' nigga in your car lookin' at me mean
I stopped in the middle of the street
Reached under seat to grab my heat
Man that's the same motherfucker
that I got into it with at the club last week

(B-Legit)
Man them niggas can't fade
They bith made
And so they start
But niggas with no heart
Don't want no part to this
Nigga rollin' with the Funk Mobb
And when it's funk
The pump will spit them double laws
So what you doin' when we roll through you hideout
I let my mack get off and then I rides out
With your ass there smokin' like an incent
You savin hoes nigga and that's bitch shit

Chorus

(Suga-T)
I'm crossin' up niggas and bitches
And even snitches just for my riches
Captain Save A Hoe
I ain't got no problem with that ol shit
I gives a damn as long as he's payin'
It ain't my fault because he's sprung off my land
I'm cashin' GA checks, go to the bank Hank
If your breath stank, you get ganked main
Long as a trick comes fallin' down
That gets me all upset to put on my suit and clown

(40)
But make that nigga take care your kids
Make that nigga call your kids his
Make that nigga get out there and work
Make his ass buy you a Brinun Burk
It's all part of that nigga take care of me
Pussy whipped nigga come save me
Batches out there be on the look out
For Captain save a hoe
Cuz he's savin hoes

Chorus

(Captain Save a Hoe)
Fuck that what they talkin about
I save a hoe yeah Ha ha
Yeah baby, what's up you wanna get your hair done
Come on let's go down to Lee and Kim Nail's
We can get your nails done, get your hair done
What about your kids? How many kids you got? Two?
Ah, yeah that's cool we can go feed and cloth them kids
We can go down and get the hook up at Durant Square
Yeah baby I do anything for ya
Want you phone cranked on, I can get it cranked on to my name
Matter of fact I get you a cellular phone and a pager
We can get that package deal down there at Cellular One
Baby I'm here for you I got you

[E-40 having a playalistic converstaion]
Hoppin over barbed wire fences nigga
Had this one broad right, SHE was so damn sprung
she used to hold my motherfuckin.. motherfuckin SAC nigga!
Thought you though, nigga
And a motherfuckin.. V.H.S., uhh motherfuckin cannister
Nigga, yeah ay, I promise you nigga this game been so damn good
(Said this rap game's been good to me)
Hard times
(But I don't know how long that's gonna be..)

*Chorus: repeat 2X*
Hope I don't go back to slangin ya-yo
Slangin llello, to get my maillll

Verse One: E-40

Been a hustler since birth, mama sellin dinners for the church
Red-handed, caught me stealin money out her purse
Got branded, permanent whip scars on my back
Cause I used to get beat, with racing car tracks
But now me got wealth, holdin a conference call on my
hands free car telephone lookin like I'm talkin to myself
Shootin the breeze cuttin it up real smooth like
choppin it up like true business men
Talkin about it, by the way
B - what we doin' this week on SoundScan?
If I ain't in Japan, I'm in the Valley
Or maybe next door in Gary Payton bowling alley
Or maybe at the shootin range, me and Banks
Or on the golf course, with Merton Hanks
Or we lay in the sun, give me my propers
with a beat that's out of this world, lookin down on doctors
Sippin on Port, watchin my kids play basketball
in the backyard on a 40 by 63 foot long sports court

*Chorus*

Verse Two: E-40

Business spot up in the wilderness, coyotes and wild boars
Dupont registry aluminum pool table made strictly for outdoors
Twenty inch gold super Bravos on my ? everybody ain't able
to be blessed with success with an independent-ass record label
Check it out, marbles, I got the game from my Uncle Saint Char-les
Used to bank across the street at Wells Fargo
but now it's Merrill Lynch
And just think, I used to sit the bench
I remember gettin chased by the cops, had to get my stomach pumped
full of a quarter ounce of rocks, late afternoon
Po-po waitin for me outside of Vallejo Kaiser Permanente
emergency room with glocks, ready to Rodney King me to death
Somehow I managed to make my escape through
the back of the cafeteria by the vending machine department quickly
Found myself runnin through the Friendship Apartment Complex
over there by the railroad tracks, around the corner from the
People's Continuation High School
Somewhere off in Lofas, behind Je-nai's Liquor ooh

*Chorus*

Verse Three: E-40

Get my mail, check it out, dope game ain't goin
Now it seems the, white-collared crimes, are hookin up phones
"Charlie Hustle, I got a few mathmatics
I'm doing a compilation, should I go with Phunky Phat Graph-X?
I tell them, "Hell yeah that's a done deal, dude them be off the hinges
Dude them did my cover and my bus benches"
Game warrior invested, worldwide Sick-Wid-It shit, independent chips
BEYOOOOOOOOOTCH!

Ay see ay, I'ma tell you nigga
That's the thing about this whole thing that jump off
It's a fool cause a muh'fucka take his bloody money right
until he sit up there and he look and he say
"Hold on man, hold on man"
A muh'fucka, yknowmsayin?
You can either be at this shit
or you can be gone with this shit
and you look at it and then he say, "Man hold on
let me translate this shit - let me translate into some marbles
Let me liquidate my motherfuckin revenelles"
You understand what I'm sayin? 40-Water now, you understand?
Ay, ay, but look, check this out
I'm here to sprinkle motherfuckers, lace they tennis shoes
Teach them about the motherfuckin game-orienfested situations
that goes down in the motherfuckin motherfuckin soils weepolations
I ain't bullshittin niggaz!

[overlaps chorus]
.. I don't bullshit!
I ain't bullshittin nigga!

*Chorus*

[Singer] There's too many jealous brothers in this game
I can't stany the same... I gotta get mine

*Chorus*

[Singer] Get my money on..
Don't wanna go, don't wanna go, don't wanna go
Don't wanna go back - back to the game, heyyyy

[E-40] To get your mail, BEYOOOOOOOTCH!

f/ Suga T

Intro: E-40

*burrrp, burp*
Yeah, hocus pocus, skiggedy skay
It ain't nuttin but me
That nigga E-40
Finna sprinkle some of you fools with some of this
This G-A-M-E man some of this game
Understand my sista
Finna sprinkle you fools with sprinkle sista
Understand this doe
It don't stop til the motherfucking glock pop
[Don't stop] and fuck a glock I'm fuckin with a 6R
P226 Diana Ross cousin nina
Misdemeanor, that's what we do, understand it

Verse One: E-40

I be more hipper than a hippopotamus
Get off in your head like a neurologist
Pushin more weight than Atlas
Got a partner by the name of 2Pacalypse
The seven-oh-seven my roots go hella far back to Flor Terrace
I pull a forty out of my ballcap
and den I flush it down my esopha-garus
The group that I'm with The Click
Suga, D-Shot, Legit
Family orientated
Game related, it's the shit
Killing motherfuckers off crucial
Sittin em down mutual
Running through these lyrics as if I was fibered
like Metamucil

Timah timah.... forty wata.. forty wata
Sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main
Big timah timah, big timah.... forty wata-ahh
Sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main
Kick that shit Suga

Verse Two: Suga T

Here comes the top notch, ooh ooh ooh here I be
Clicked out me Suga T from the V
I'm quick to smob (quick to smob), always down for the job
Ya gotta strut that's a gang of shot (gang of shot)
Ooh ooh ooh I'm a fool
Slangin more mail as I smobs through yo' hood
Straight shakin all, these bustas and busterettes
Tryin to claim fame off my Chavez rep (Chavez rep)
Ohh, why oh why must I be so tight? (Why oh why)
Most folks tell me, Suga you ain't right
(Why oh why Suga you ain't right)
It makes me wanna scream while I make ya holla
Pullin a gang of clout like that al-mighty dollar

Chorus: E-40, Suga T

Suga Suga (ahh yeah that's me) Suga Suga
That's my sista (you know my name!)
Sprinkle me girl, sprinkle me girl (ahaha)
Sprinkle me girl, sprinkle me girl
Suga Suga (that's what they call me)
Dat's my sista (I ain't right!)
Sprinkle me girl, sprinkle me girl, sprinkle me girl, sprinkle me girl

Verse Three: E-40, Suga T

(Check the flotation!)
Nigga PHin on a playa makin mega
Tryin to knock the hustle just because we way too major
(E they try to test your testicles, you know that shit ain't cool)
Suga don't make me have to come up out the sound booth
and act a fuckin fool
(All these old hoe-cake ass niggaz, they make me so damn sick)
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM ON A TRICK
Playa play her for false and get rubbed off ya don't want malse
Fuck around and get evaporated

Chorus: E-40

Cause I'ma timah timah.... timah timah
Forty wata... forty wata
Sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main
Big timah timah... big timah
Forty wata... forty wata
Sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main, sprinkle me main
That's what we do, beatch!

Understand this shit, understand it
What's happenin Suga, you in this bitch with me?
(haha thought you heard)
Yeah that's what we do for the motherfuckin... nine-five
(ha for the nine-five, yeah)
Sick Wid It Records, Jive all the time
(understandin the system main)
It's Mob City, V-Town, it's Mob City
It's Mob City V-Town niggaz
(mobbin through ya hood)

f/ Fabolous, Kokane

[Chorus]
(Kokane & E-40)
Automatic, Systematic
Do what you do playa
Just keep that money on ya mi-i-ind, (on ya mind)
In the traffic, Baller status, (baller status)
Do what you do playa, (what you do)
Just keep on hustlin' on the gri-i-ind, (on the grind)

[Verse 1]
(E-40)
???, Stackin' my mil
Avoidin' the law, Stayin' out of jail
Possesion of sales, Pocket all sales
Conspiracy charges, Hate betrayals
Payin' the rent
Cause I don't write nothin down I keep it all in my head, Intellegent
About my business, Memory like an elephant
Chasin' the dream, Suit up for cream
Special represented tactics team, They out for teams
And infared beams, Pointed at domes, backs, and spleens
Fire hydrons, Ambulance sirens, Spittin' licence, Police indicements
Rightiously what it all boils down to is basically who's the wisest
Ughhh, My heart made of granite
Slow down my spit so you squares can understand it
I didnt come in here empty handed
I came in here on business and yall gone retrospecit dammit
Been out the game, Did that mane
Valejeo I claim, Made the name
Feel my pain, Ghetto fame
Magazine Street hustla mane
Messin' around in the fast lane
Chevy, Cougars and Mustangs
Novas, Granadas, and Falcons
Project livin' and Public housin'

[Chorus]
(Kokane & Fabolous & E-40)
Automatic, Systematic
Do what you do playa
Just keep that money on ya mi-i-ind
(I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind, Ughh)
In the traffic, Baller status, (Ugh)
Do what you do playa, (what you do)
Just keep on hustlin' on the gri-i-ind, (on the grind)

[Verse 2]
(Fabolous)
Its ghetto F-A-Beezy
F-A-Sheezy, Bustas hate me cause I f'ed they breezies
Playboy, These techs spray easy
Like you don't know the hoodrat Hugh Hef play greasy
I get money on the grind
So if you ya mind on my money, I put some money on ya mind
Ya honey gone be mine
Cause ya diamond forecast is partly cloudly
The kids look sunny on the shine
I'm gettin' ticked off again
Ya'll must like ridin' in long black caddy's that they stick coffins in
The Click often been
Blowin' sticky, That come in the jars that they stick coffee in
I got chicks offerin'
But I play hard to get, Unless they suck me 'til my dick soft again
You lookin' at the way the coast to coast g do it
From the Brooklyn to the Bay
Bring the hook in by the way

[Chorus]
(Kokane & E-40)
Automatic, Systematic
Do what you do playa
Just keep that money on ya mi-i-ind, (on ya mind)
In the traffic, Baller status, (baller status)
Do what you do playa, (what you do)
Just keep on hustlin' on the gri-i-ind, (on the grind)
To all you playas out there hustlin', (hustli-i-in)
And all my thugs that be thuggin', (thuggi-i-in)
To all you playas out there hustlin', (out there hustli-i-in)
And all my thugs that be thuggin', (thuggi-i-in)

[Verse 3]
(Fabolous)
It don't matter if you lokin' or bleedin'
Wheather its backwards or zig zags ya smokin' ya weed in
You slow pokin' or speedin'
All that counts to these motherfuckers is if you broke or suceedin'
I'm gettin used to strokin' and sweetin', pokin' and skeetin'
Stayin focused while feedin', so I don't choke what im eatin'
I'm lookin' for towns to put the coke and the weed in
To sit with white folks in a meetin', pleasebaleaveit
(E-40)
I used to sell tapes up out my truck and slang cain, (boom)
Respected on the streets before the fame, (boom)
Aint nothin' lame or game goofy about my game, (boom)
Paid my dues, Obeyed the rules
Stuck to the script, Made a Click
All a my fellows and all a my dawgs
Ridin' mustard and mayonaise on vouges
Feelin' em up, Sittin' em down
Flossin' and Bossin' all over the town
Hardest state benzes ya ever heardin ya life man write that down
(write that down)

[Chorus]
(Kokane & E-40)
Automatic, Systematic
Do what you do playa
Just keep that money on ya mi-i-ind, (on ya mind)
In the traffic, Baller status, (baller status)
Do what you do playa, (what you do)
Just keep on hustlin' on the gri-i-ind, (on the grind)
To all you playas out there hustlin', (hustli-i-in)
And all my thugs that be thuggin', (thuggi-i-in)
To all you playas out there hustlin', (out there hustli-i-in)
And all my thugs that be thuggin', (thuggi-i-in)

[No lyrics]

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