E-40 feat. Tech N9ne & Brotha Lynch Hung – Zombie

If you’re zombie,
[x7:] If you’re zombie, monster, ghoul or fiend,
If you’re…

[Brotha Lynch Hung:]
Lynch, E-40,
It’s that season of the sickness your witnessing nigga sittin spin,
I’m a get you addicted when I spit shit venomous shit, shit again,
Shit so much I gotta go to Costco to get my toilet paper,
Hit so much, spit so much with the pistol up, I’m a skitzo nut,
Zeppo rape or keep her safe or he could take her,
Chill pill, real deal, kill bill,
I’m might be sick,
But that ain’t the reason that I still spit real I’ll, niggas ain’t got no lyrics when I hear it I’m like “what’s up with that” everybody wanna copy me,
So I’m choppin em up leave rotten meat,
(If you’re zombie) [repeat in background]
I’m a be drama free like my momma be,
Supersize before I let a nigga ride on me, that ain’t comedy,
I don’t get, I don’t have to get it,
Mini AK, I call him midget,
An he got a sister heatin em up makin his skin blister,
I’m a monster your a zombie.

If you’re zombie,
[x8:] If you’re zombie, monster, ghoul or fiend,
If you’re…

[E-40:]
I’m lookin out the window when it’s thundering and lighting in 2 in the afternoon the sky is black and it’s frightening,
There howling, looking n prowling, growling,
Back we’re smiling, crowding,
Around my place,
Gimme 40 feed and a house of space,
Before I bust you in the face,
Witch thumper, thumper,
Pack 3 guns like a hunter, hunter,
Kick a nigga ass like a putter, putter,
Beat a muthafucka like a drummer, drummer,
Base play crazy half a hate a hazy,
4 game like the Gracie’s,
I a monster, I’m a fiend on the microphone,
Walk into my twilight zone,
Play me foul get tombstoned,
Send you to hell where you belong,
Gonna wish ya had a muthafuckin snow cone, no coat on,
I got the wickedest flow,
Serve a muthafucka take out to go,
Send a hubba head to a sucka front door, Lynch n 40 water Nina in this hoe.

If you’re zombie,
[x8:] If you’re zombie, monster, ghoul or fiend,
If you’re…

[Tech N9ne:]
If your a zombie, monster, ghoul or fiend,
If your a zombie see your lovin every way tech, lynch and 40 sing,
See ya gotta be conscious of what it means,
Then I know that your ready for what it brings,
Do you know what I mean when I say Caribou Lou,
Then your tellin me Tech Nina go ahead and do you,
Do ya never get enough of Nina and you listen when you with the crew,
KCT you know and just what it do,
Your ass probly startin to moshpit,
Lovin every minute of bangin this boss shit,
You throwin up your set around all cliques,
You never wanna be hangin with a soft bitch,
You know who you are muthafuckas.

If you’re zombie,
[x8:] If you’re zombie, monster, ghoul or fiend,
If you’re…

E-40 feat. Hot & Laroo T.H.H – Yankin’

[Verse 1: E-40]
Uh!
Let me go and knock my verse down and beat this track back
This one of em party starters mane make the party crack
I’m in the vocal vuze right now with my plastic cup filled to the rim
Bout to head out to the club and try to knock some new trim
What’chu mean new trim? Some twenty-one and up coochie
I don’t know what they be puttin’ in the water nowadays but white girls got big booties
Ain’t no color line I’m color blind let me stop lying mister
We all created equal but I prefer a sister
Like baby girl right there she gotta big ba-donka-donk
She probably workout three times a week and eat what the fuck she want
You got your thumper on you my nig just in case we get into some funk?
Naw remember they patted me down I put it back in the trunk
Well I got mine on me homie, and if I have to I’ll shoot
Well I don’t think I’m a sucka they better not hip, bip or boot
Fuck all of the VIP let’s order some drinks and sit at the bar
I’m a reckless street nigga everybody wanna be a superstar

[Chorus: E-40]
Pushin’ up, bring it down
Side to side, round and round
I’m high off the ground
I’m try’na take her to the telly and pound
This thang yankin’
Yankin’ yankin’ yankin’ yankin’
Yankin’
Yankin’ yankin’ yankin’ yankin’
This thang yankin’

[Verse 2: Hot]
Neck full of jewelry tell a playa haters hello
Pull up in that Porsche painted Japanese yellow
(Yellow?) Yeah pimp yellow
Fuck what the kids she can lose that other fellow
Pocket full of money and I’m a keep it all
I ain’t make ya shit rain tell ya bitch to get a job
The boy with the X is not goin have it with the crew
I’m fly everyday like I run for Jet Blue
Yeah I step in the place with the pumper on my waist
The jack boys coming but my goons on the case
Let the V.I.P. in the middle of the party y’all
Neck full of chains got me looking like the Marty Grove
I’m in it with the street niggas chill with the hustlers
Got love from the hood so you bet not touch us
The dudes that I’m witting, yeah they the truce
They don’t raps they troops I just bring em out to shoot

[Chorus: E-40]

[Verse 3: Laroo T.H.H.]
This thang yankin’
First, hard-headed gas through a HD board
Instantly transpire the bitches so therefores
I doin a fif fast to show up in long hair
Outta cable that caught in the groupie here
Got yank, the party ain’t notice splice
Married to the game nigga you should throw a rice
Thick and thin, thin and thick
The direction should pick the torment how life detorse (it’s fully yours)
T double H…
She want releventing real I’m the one that’cha see
Got us mango lick, Monty too exotic
They know my game persurb (what’chu do) in bomb it

[Chorus: E-40]

E-40 – What’s My Name

Tell me where to go like my name E-40 [2x]
E-40 [10x]
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [10x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [7x]
What’s My Muthafucking Name!
E-40 [4x]

[Verse 1:]
Champion beanie and beanie cap
D-Boy a tile
Every promoter and partner got my name on their flyer
I’m on this bubba kush right higher than a hiker
My folks fresh back from the mountains and he got that fire
Feelin’ good like you should liquor in my cup
Understood I’m in the hood like a ice cream truck
You should spend with my I’ll hook you up, cause I could give you more bang for your buck
poor politics, poverty, puzzler pieces pertaining, paper preceding profit pocket, prydein prosperous promise, putting bees in your pocket, proofing the put, you
probably you can but you probably shouldn’t.
Alain Silberstein collection watch botch, don’t ask me how much this muthafucker cost
You steppin’ over dollars for pennies, I’m steppin’ over pennies for dollars, you dealing with hoes and they periods, I’m dealing with hustlers and convicts (Bitch!)

E-40 [10x]
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [10x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [7x]
What’s My Muthafucking Name!
E-40 [4x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40

[Verse 2:]
My Camaro souped up, and I ain’t talking bout Campbell’s
Speakers in the grill and in the door panels
Detachable steering wheel case they try and steal’ light you up like a candle with my Springfield
Rifle for rifle, built for survival, it’s wild, and homo-sidle out here in the bay, with 90′s and SK’s, we living the last days, they calling the wrong plays, rolling over in their graves ancestors used to be slaves
I try to trust saved folks, love em’ to death, but they be the ones that stir up the most mess, I ask em how they doin and they holler out player, pack an air gun like their better than the next
I’m the rawest in it, I say the realest shit
Keep the sickest flow, I ain’t quit
I started this independent shit so Imma finish it, been in it forever, for a grip, for a minute. (BITCH!)

E-40 [10x]
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [10x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [7x]
What’s My Muthafucking Name!
E-40 [4x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafucking Name!

Bars like a restaurant, I don’t drink to drink I drink to get drunk
I might eat the pink after I hit the blunt, dick on hard like a penis pump
Carbs, she got a big donk, not the donk with slump, but the donk I wanna hump, the type that’s thick and plump with junk in her trunk, hit it from the back and then the front
The function was bamicro, we got it crackin’
Shit was so quite you could a spider piss on a napkin
Packers on a diet, hell na mayne we stackin’
Seemed like a riot the way the music had use actin’ (BITCH!)

E-40 [10x]
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [10x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafuckin Name!
E-40 [7x]
What’s My Muthafucking Name!
E-40 [4x]
So tell me where to go like my name E-40
What’s My Muthafucking Name!

E-40 feat. Juicy J & 2 Chainz – They Point

[Hook x2: E-40]
Every time I stop, hoes like look at him
Every car I drive, niggas want one of them
They pointin’, they pointin
They like dammmmmn
They pointin’, they pointin
They like dammmmmn

[Verse 1: E-40]
Like Ricky Ross, everyday I’m hustlin’
Gettin’ off weight (like who?) Jennifer Hudson
Pack a hammer, Thor
Shooter, score
Slide through batches think I’m hecka rich
Breakin’ necks, turnin’ heads like the exorcist
Thumbs up like the like button
Eatin’ good, no rib touchin’
Runnin’ with a bundle, never fumble
Countin’ so much bread I got Carpal tunnel
Stock paint (from where?) Maaco
Beige, like a potato
They hate me on the outside, love me in the inside
Suck me in the back seat while I let a friend drive
Half a pound two stacks, half a unit 10-5
I stay out here by Sully so you know a hustler been fly

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
My pockets some’n serious, mansion on a hilly
Main that nigga got more cheese than a philly
Shoelace tied but a nigga still trippin’
I’m Lionel Richie high, I’m dancin’ on the ceiling
Never marry a hoes, I just marry checks
That’s how you stay on top, missionary sex
Rubberband business, know you heard of that
I got the town talkin, know you scurred of that
None less than ten figures, you know what I’m worth
Record sales, show money, not including merch’
Club full of bitches, pocket full of Franks
Blunt full of weed, cup full of drank
Me going raw dog, ain’t no way in hell
Before I risk my life it be a cold day in hell
But bitch take it off, here we go show and tell
And I’m fuckin’ that pussy like I’m fresh out of jail

[Hook]

[Verse 3: 2 Chainz]
Parallel park while I’m ghost riding
Black diamonds man I’m racial profiling
I’m so fly man I need a co-pilot
So I might let your damn ho drive it
Lil’ hair pullin’ man I like rough sex
Dropped out, I ain’t never passed a drug test
You know my lingo baby let’s mingle
So I got a thousand dollars worth of singles
I got racks in the cargo of my camels
Still, still won’t give her Nathaniel
Life a gamble so I had to make a bet
These ain’t Air Max but make a check
They took me out the streets but it’s still in me
I been sellin’ work since we had Bill Clinton
I’m the voice of the streets so they still listen
On the back of the milk carton, ceiling missing

[Hook]

E-40 feat. Slim Thug, Bun B – That Candy Paint

[Chorus:]
That candy paint, that candy paint, 84′s
That candy paint, that candy paint, 84′s, built in ? chrome grille, leather seats, ?, tv screens and wooded wheels [x4]

[E-40:]
That candy paint, smoking that dank, beats so loud bystanders faint
Neighborhood watch call and complain,
Hate on my big fat ass bank
Po-po pull me over say you a rap singer
I know you smoke weed, let me smell your finger
Linger, that the green thumb jars got a valid registration and my cannibus card
I’m challenged, got candy paint on my harley, harley
?.and truck, jet ski’s boats and old school cut’ (cutlass)
Looking for a top shelf not know ?
That candy paint, gotta go can’t believe their eyes
Drank and drank, flabbergasted mesmerize
Digital dash, havin’ my cash
Secret stash for my strap
Gotta shake these suckers and watch my back
I’m slapping so hard my windshield cracked, windshield cracked? windshield cracked
I’m slapping so hard my windshield cracked
My old bitch joalous, put my tires on a ?

[Chorus]

[Slim Thug:]
Gon’ show them boyz how we rollin’ mane,
I’m addicted to this flossin’ that why all my rides so awesome
I keep that big ‘lac bossin it don’t matter what it’s costing
Tossing deuces out the roof, but that coupe
While I ride by, players chunking deuces back
Bobs holl’in out “hi”
Feel like I’m up in the sky, yo all know that bay green
40 got them going ? when we pull up on the scene
Candy paint, looking clean, fo’s looking king size
Heads turn while I drive it’s like they can’t believe their eyes
It’s that that boy thugger and that bad motherfucker
Swanging banging riding dirty screwed & chopped on them suckers
Flipping flipping looking good, diamonds diamonds ‘gainst the wood
From the Texas to the Cali, catch me tipping through the hood

[Chorus]

[Bun B of UGK:]
It’s Houston Texas that’s the city where we ride the greatest
Gripping grain, drippin’ stain, turning up, rober davis
That old school great tape, a trunk poppa plate scrapa
Hustler and a grinder every day I’m trying to make paper
I’m from pa represent for UGK and I’m riding for my city like it’s rapper ?
I got homies on the west I got homies in detroit
Matter of fact these gladiators are all over, all day
Sittin in that candy paint sideways,
Pull up outta my driveway
Drop that top and let them jock, then head on out on that highway
Turn up some rig shot, or maybe swisher house
Now pass the kush & dump the swisha out it’s going down

[Chorus till end]

E-40 – Slummin’

[E-40]
Showin up, showin out, makin my presence known (known)
Roll it up, smokin out, in a perfect fuckin zone (zone)
Fast lane and they slummin, you can hear this hustler comin (comin)
’round the block with hella knock (knock) cuttin up stuntin (stuntin)
Lil’ stinger out the sunroof (sunroof) throw it up not loose (loose)
Ready to catch a fade, ready to put up my fuckin deuce
Ready to squeeze a nigga neck (neck) like this bottle of Grey Goose (Goose)
I ain’t never cashed a check (check) just street nigga loot (loot)
Mannishness, foolery, rockin hella jewelry (jewelry)
Local superstar (star) you oughta see my car (car)
Out of sight, up to par (par) came a long way hecka far (far)
And I owe it to my triple beam and my pickle jar (BEITCH!)
There’s mackin in my DNA, make a bitch pay what she weight
E’ry day a holiday, born and raised up in the Yay
Polished young brother; never been a sucker
A sharp hustler, flyer than a crop duster (BEITCH!)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
We out here grittin ’bout Cooter, it’s like a holiday
Standin out on the steps, where my momma stay
Walkin right up to the cars, keep it comin (keep it comin)
We out here slummin! (We out here slummin!)

[E-40]
Trappin and checkin my traps (traps) collectin and countin my racks (racks)
Settin and shootin craps (craps) totin and packin gats (gats)
In the party double fisted (fisted) at the bar gettin hella twisted
See that bitch right there? That’s the homey bitch
but he don’t know I’m hittin it (hittin it)
Little gutter chick (gutter chick)
Cain’t get enough of it (‘nough of it)
Strung out on my dick (on my dick) she like to spit on it (spit on it)
Act classy but really a freak nasty
She like for me to nut on her cavity
It’s game involved (game involved) I’m a damn fool
I’m the nigga a fixture, my nigga I’m the dude! (I’m the dude!)
I never been a big tipper, I can be hella rude! (Hella rude!)
Only thing I tip is my liquor and my food (is my food)
Boss status (boss status) smokin cabbage (smokin cabbage)
Living lavish (living lavish) extra mannish (extra mannish)
Profit flippin (profit flippin) flippin profit (flippin profit)
Louis sippin (Louis sippin) Hu$tleholic$!

[Chorus]

E-40 feat. Tyga – Slide Through

[Verse 1: E-40]
I got a sack of that romulan and I’m ready to party
A box of them condoms and a bottle of dark
I’m ready nine milli in case they think I’m a mark
[?] I park and then I head out the lot
Freshly hitted and fitted, from my head to my socks
But she don’t wanna suck me, she wanna fuck my watch
My diamonds hella noisy, sound like an opera when they sing
Big ass medallion ’round my neck, look like a playground scene
She say ‘I like yo bling, I like yo ice’
‘How much it cost? ‘ A few dollars, but fuck the price
Got it from selling nasal candy, base rocks, rice
Without the soy sauce, cappers, some sleepless Nikes (Belee dat)
I’m a whale, I’m a top hat
I’m rocking what I see and what I’m looking at
You got the snapback and I ain’t talking ’bout the cap
Pretty young thang, like hella pre

[Verse 2: Too Short]
I told her put something sexy on
No bra, little dress, and thong
I’m coming through with that extra long
IPod with the best songs
When I’m horny I don’t play bitch
Hit the store and got a bottle of your favourite shit
I know how to please a woman
Give her what she wants when I’m cuming
I like loading aim
Then I’m up out on the road of game
All these females know my name
Heard I was slanging that golden thang
Too many traps too check
Bitches always wanna have nasty sex
But it’s too much cash to get
I never leave empty-handed, ask the bitch

[Verse 3: Tyga]
King guapa, panty dropper
Give a bitch that boom; Chief Rocka
Shock locker, neck boppers, Phantom driver
All white ghost, no opera
Street mobber, rich one to kick like shocka
Riding with a thing on my thing; let it chop her
Fuck coppers, ‘bang bang’ at yo partna
We body, you body boys no problem
Sick Wid It, no liers
Admit it, Forty Water, we on fire
Wet pussy, now I’m diving
Full of that drink, now I’m driving
I’m a beast bitch, on ya knees bitch
Off the Hennessey, now we looking for a freak bitch
Like Lil B said, ‘I can fuck yo bitch’
So I’m a fuck yo bitch

E-40 feat. Wiz Khalifa – Say I

[Chorus:]
All in favor of giving ripped and gone
And you’re gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say IIIIIII
All in favor of getting super high
You might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say IIIIIII

[Verse 1: E-40]
Brought me in and watch me go, bad on a hoe ass nigga
Don’t give me no more I’m on my second fifth of liquor
Once I’m power up it’s hard for me to power down
I fuck a nigga up, and put tears on em like a clown
I went from rags to riches, riches to rags,
Top convertibles, Benzs and Jags
Smoking me herbal, sipping me wine,
Or should I say turbo ’cause it’s green and it’s lime
Ever since he was infant he was raised around pimps
When he took his first step, he walked with a limp
Man this nigga hard headed damn fool
His teacher sucked his dick in high school
Supercalifragilistic ex be ala hooligan
Breakin down the diesel mixing cookies with the headband
Went to jail on a Friday, didn’t get out till Tuesday
Got a DUI for drinking too much lou, bitch

[Chorus:]
All in favor of giving ripped and gone
And you’re gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say IIIIIII
All in favor of getting super high
You might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say IIIIIII

[Verse 2: Too $hort]
I. Got a DUI, why? I didn’t even have to drive
Now, I’m in jail for a crime, made bail and I paid the fine
My lawyer charged me high ass prices,
DNV, bout to take my license
Insurance, is going up, and when I go to court I know I’m fucked
All this shit, just for drinking
Need a designated driver, I’m to drunk for thinking
Two hands on the steering wheel
Don’t let a friend drink and drive if you being real
Might crash the whip, might lose your life
If I get too high tonight just make sure
I making home safe and you do the same
Now let’s get fucked up and lose it man, bitch

[Chorus:]
All in favor of giving ripped and gone
And you’re gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say IIIIIII
All in favor of getting super high
You might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say IIIIIII

[Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa]
Roll the paper so loud I wake up the neighbors
The boss I don’t need no favor
You pussy so fuck a hater bitch
Now that my cake up, my crib got an elevator,
My new shoes is alligator
And ever meal got a waiter with it
And I’m all about pour drank up
While I’m rolling the stank up
Sweat my wife out her make up,
Blow a pound when I wake up,
See the cars they don’t wanna race us
I do it big niggas do it A Cup
Walk up in the club then gonna bring some champagne
I’m a blow a lot of drugs, I put money on it,
Spendin all this bank let a fuck nigga hate
Real nigga show love sound funny don’t it
All this money think I lucked up,
All this Gin got me fucked up
Man I live life the taylor way
Drinking Bombay and lemonade, rolling up some paper planes.

[Chorus:]
All in favor of giving ripped and gone
And you’re gonna have to call someone to drive you home
Say IIIIIII
All in favor of getting super high
You might start to feel like a bird that can fly
Say IIIIIII

E-40 – Rat Heads

[VERSE 1]
Would you look, would you listen
Niggas be snitchin, talkin, rattin
All up in the joint, man, singin, chattin
Talkin all that old really fruitful riff-raff-ass shit, mayn
Speakin on every nigga in the muthafuckin dope game
He’s scared like a mice
Po-po’s talkin about 25 to life
But real niggas do the time, and pay the price, though
Rat heads give up game to the vice, you know
Trick sap wanna hang hisself like a dick
Just because he got popped with a half a zip
Chow time, niggas rush for the vittles
But rat head wants to the talk to the po-pos
Get me outta here, dude, I’m losin weight stressin
So they offer that man some police protection
He couldn’t be from the Hillside or the south
Cause my side of town don’t go runnin off at the mouth
Mickey Mouse spilled his guts
He said, “They all drive Chevys and Cuts’”
But they let him out without a doubt
Nothin-ass nigga, he straight ratted us out

[VERSE 2]
But since he sang such a good song
The pigs even gave his ass a ride home
The blind mice couldn’t read braille
They made him sit in the front seat, and drove him all over Vallejo
Popo’s gives up no slack, all through the dope tracks
Lettin this shit really be known, jack
To get a bit too far, kind of ridiculously
Handed the rat some money, and said, “Nnow you work for me”
He was all for the scratch, see, and just like a batch, gee
The nigga played the role of a pussy
Little old peck, crevas-faced faggot
Nigga sold out, and now he wears a snitch jacket
On the turf they wants to get with his p.g.
But it’ll draw too much heat, so they wait patiently
He won’t be seen no time soon
Cause in the V-Town he’s doomed
Packed up and straight cut to susun
Got in the grill with all the hoods and thugs
Expressin, “I’m from the V-Town, duke 707″
Niggas and bitches was trippin and shit, havin a fit
He said, “I even know E-40 and the fuckin Click”
They damn near shitted, boss
Not knownin that the nigga was lyin his ass off
Meanwhile, back in Vallejo
Brothers gettin knocked for possession of sale
The other races get away clean, brother
But niggas, we always gotta rat on each other

[VERSE 3]
A party jumps off on Blueberg Street
Vallejo niggas in that muthafucka hella deep
No funk, no static, nobody’s thinkin about a war
We got Grump in the house, Rhythm X, and hoes galore
Baththub full of liqor and wine
M.D. 20/20, Ever Clear, and Rossi wine
All the danksters gather up
They play the five second game. hold it in, and get stupid stuck
Hoes gettin poked in the backroom
Fools goin home smellin like perfume
Nothin but ballers from different towns
A house full of Nino Browns
Shootin pool, playin craps and dominos
Niggas jackin off decks and five point o’s
It’s all good, cause nobody gives a fuck
But look who pops up
(The nigga that talks, he’s a bitch)
Vallejo niggas yelled out (Snitch!)
Mobbed his ass, beat him down to the dirt
And straight went bezerk

E-40 feat. Droop-E – Questions

[E] C’mon tiger, I’m finna take you to school
[E] Up – put your seat belt on!
[D] Dad are you a hustler?
[E] I guess you can say that, hustlin these records and tapes
[D] Where you get all these revenues?
[E] Hmm~! Down and dirty about my scratch
[D] And dad, why you always mean muggin?
[E] I’m just tired of being stepped on son
[D] Dad are you a gangster?
[E] I don’t know, some people seem to think so~!
[D] Why you always carry that big ol’ gat?
[E] Cause I’d rather be caught with than without
[D] Dad – tell me why you killed that man! [echoes]

E-40 feat. B-Legit – Outsmart The Po Po's

(Yawn) (burp)
It’s 9 AM (fuck) time for a poisima,
life at incent, sit on the toiletsump
The Rossi got me smellin like I’m dead inside (sniff)
I’m stankin up the bathroom wit nuttin’ to hide
I gotta go, flush the cumode, k ,
threw on the same damn clothes I woreyesterday
Me got some niggaz come down from outta town see
They want to meet me half way at the Nut Tree
But I’m starvin’ so I’m Chargin’
15-5 for the Margerine, A-1 Yola tightly packed,
17-5 for the coochierack
Strike to the spot ride witta, my nine milameter bereta
The broad that be holdin’ my D she love me,
long as I keep dickin her down properly
Sittin low in my cut not like a failure,
in front of baby’s house
straight talkin on a cellular
Bring me out a unit, a birdie, a cake,
with the gypsyness before it’s too late
Penitentury time drastic, here she come with a Kilo in a baby basket
Gotta play your cards right, game tight,
can’t be slippin in the 90′s, damn right

[Chorus]
Outsmart the Po Po,
known to the marks as the don’t knows,
you gotta

I wear street clothes
pants be saggin’, I’m not bootsee
and I don’t drive a dope wagon
Huh, Got a grip and I don’t be braggin,
can’t be laggin’, gotta keep stackin’ (yeah)
I keeps me a strap in case ah, I gots to shoot a simp in his face ah,
It’s better to be got with then without,
Jealous muthafuckas would love it if they heard that I was tweakin’ out
Seniors in the summertime, ralleys in the winter (yeah)
Ridin’ with a light skinned big booty tender
Harass them muthafuckas on gold shoes,
tryin’ to put a stop on my revenues
The Po Po I dislike em (hate em)
Crooked ass cops will make you vital
But you know that I know the Po Po
would love for a nigga to even attempt to act black

That’s why you gotta-

[Chorus]

[B-Legit]
It’s Saturday night and to the night club
I got the Tanqueray, juice, and the Green Bud
Tacked on the freeway doin’ fifty ya’ll,
a brand new thang lookin nifty ya’ll
I open the juice and then I take some swallows (yeah)
And the muthafuckin Gin to the same bottle (that’s right)
Roll me a splift and put the ounce in the back (then what)
I keep it the trunk right next to the Gat (what they do doe)
Po Po jacked but can’t fuck with me (what you got?)
an open juice bottle and a little ol’ doobie (what they got to kiss?)
Cops better kiss my ass for a nigga like Legitament to blast

[Chorus]

E-40 – Nuttin Ass Nigga

I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga, just down for my riches, I figure it takes
About a million or 500.000 tapes
To become officially gold or platinum status
That’s why I’m always at this
Practise, in and out tha studio 24-7
My occupation, this is how I make my livin’
I get harrassed mostly everywhere I go
Can do my thing without a motherfuckin’ popo
All up in my mix, cause I’m tryin’ to maintain
And get a grip light weight fame
Born and raised in tha valley south Vallejo
The northern part of Cali, ’bout my mail
Struggle and strive all my life in a world of grief
Sucker motherfuckers wanna knock me of my feet
But Imma keep on steppin’ and gettin’ bigger
I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga

I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga, just down for my riches

Not to long ago I’m off to the bank to cash my cheque
The lady teller wouldn’t give me no damn respect
She started acting hella snotty, kinda prejudiced
I guess she didn’t like the way that a nigga was dressed
Before I could even get my foot in the door, right
The bitch already had a brother like me stereo-typed
Ready to push the button with no delay
I said wait a minute, baby, you mistakin’ me for Andre
I’m not a … rat head wanna be
I wouldn’t rob a fuckin’ bank for publicity
I get it honestly, legally so have no fear
I make more in a week than you do in a year
Straight out tha geto, hillside resident
Sick wid it records and tapes, and I’m the president
So don’t go thinkin’ that every brother is out to get ya
I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga

I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga, just down for my riches

Sometimes my language is vulgar, lotsa profanity
I try not to trip when kids parents be sweating me
18 and over, that’s what you gotta be
To purchase my tape and make sure you got I.D.
That’s all I can say so mommy and daddy need to peep
It ain’t my fault the kids dump it off the streets
They hear it at school, walkin’ home and everywhere they go
And most of the violence come from movies on HBO
The shit that I be spittin’ is real cause I’m real see
I’m out to make a meal, do you feel me
Holdin’ my own cause I’m grown and intelligent
Try to knock my hustle? That shit is irrelevant

I’m not a nuttin’ ass nigga, just down for my riches

E-40 – My Shit Bang

[Hook:]
Turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my music up, turn my music up
My-my shit bang, my shit bang
My shit bang, my-my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
My-my shit bang, my-my shit…
Bang-bang-bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, bang, bang, bang
(Nigga my shit bang) bang, bang, bang, bang

[Verse 1:]
My shit bang, my shit throp
I’m a muthafuckin beast, I’m a muthafuckin hog
Pull up with the slump
Or should I say black trunk sounding like I got a alligator in the back
Paint wetter than melted ice, ralley and hockey strips
Burning rubber in every light, mean mugging like ‘thug ya life’
I be hustling all day and night, pushing all night and day
Twisted and whippin yay, getting my gwopalay
So you put my Gouda my pay, when I get in my way
From da Bay to L.A. to the A this nigga connected
Worldwide nigga this mister how-you-be-headed
You ain’t gotta like me but you gotta respect it
Woke up early in the morning and put one in the air
Got so high thought about running for mayor
Slap myself to make sure I was still there
Shit, showered and shaving then I cut my hair
Today I’m try’na get laid then put a pounding on the mug
Try’na find me a bitch with a ass like a Worldstahiphop bunny
Try’na get rich in this collectings stack my money
You can tell that I’m a D-boy by my baller tummy
Sometimes I’m just uppity-up, sometimes I dress skummy
Sometimes I dress high class, sometimes I dress bummy
If it ain’t about no cash you can miss me
Most of the time you can find this hustla tipsy
BIATCH! Biatch

[Hook:]
Turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up (TURN IT UP!)
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my music up, turn my music up (TURN IT UP!)
My-my shit bang, my shit bang
My shit bang, my-my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
My-my shit bang, my-my shit…
Bang-bang-bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, bang, bang, bang
(Nigga my shit bang) bang, bang, bang, bang

[Verse 2:]
UGHHH! I been running around all day try’na get my decimals up (UH)
Anybody that try to stop me I suggest that they duck
Cause when I get the bucket I can assure you it’s nothing pleasant
My arsenal game is east but the west has all kinda of weapons
Even if you’re wearing chest protection a trauma plate won’t work
Cause I’m a aim at your hammit, I ain’t goin aim at you shirt
Alot of these bitch ass niggas should be wearing a skirt
With the box of Morton and some maxi pads in they purse
Pillow talking and biting pillows, acting like some brassies
Cause they’re a whole bunch of that sucka shit a bunch of popsicles
I should of been a tourist cause I’m stubborn as a bull
I’m a different type of dude and I stick to the rules
I’m a real nigga best believe it, I live it and I breathe it
I tell it like it is and I call it how I see it
My potna used to be all sharp but now he all fefe
‘What do fefe mean? ‘ Methamphetamine
I can’t believe it, man you disappointed me
I’m devastated mayne he lost 2 points with me
I’m standing outside of my crib with some gym shorts and a hoody
Talking to my nig on the celly smoking a philly
Sipping on a fifth of that oil cognac henny
A hundred wall on them bricks, he got caught with a kid of candies
If you didn’t go to jail by now he probably be dead
So instead he in there with his uncle his daddy and relatives
UHH!

[Hook:]
Turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up (TURN IT UP!)
Turn my-turn my music up, turn my music up
Turn my music up, turn my music up (TURN IT UP!)
My-my shit bang, my shit bang
My shit bang, my-my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
My-my shit bang, my-my shit…
Bang-bang-bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, bang, bang, bang
(Nigga my shit bang) bang, bang, bang, bang

[x12:]
Ba-bang bang bang ba-bang bang bang
Ba-bang bang bang ba-bang bang bang (TURN IT UP!)
Ba-bang bang bang ba-bang bang bang
Ba-bang bang bang ba-bang bang bang (TURN IT UP!)

Bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, my shit bang
Nigga my shit bang, bang, bang, bang
(Nigga my shit bang) bang, bang, bang, bang

E-40 feat. Stressmatic – My Lil’ Grimey Nigga

[CHORUS 2X: Stresmatic]
My lil grimey nigga, he don’t rap or nothin
The one in front of the club in the hoodie that be bustin
He don’t love nothin, his pockets on slim
So when you go outside you better watch out for him

[VERSE 1: E-40]
When my lil grimey nigga come around fools get nervous
Cause he ill and sick as the fuck, smirkish, heartless and merciless
His daddy don’t claim him even though he looks just like him
His mama been on goup ever since 1990
In and out of foster homes, YA, juvy, still ain’t reformed
They say the doctor dropped him on his head when he was born
My lil grimey nigga maney, janky like tricked dice
Never been to church in his life, no conscience, put you on ice
Pack a gun and a knife, aim it right at your brain
Lookin like a plate, tuck it or you gon’ get took for your chain
Him and his partners mannish (?)
With a AK-47, pistol, handgun, assault weapon
I be tryina tell my lil grimey, “Slow down!” But he ain’t listenin
Lil nigga hardheaded, look forward to goin to prison
Don’t care if he make it to 25, he ain’t trippin
Fifi, belushi, and pill, syrup and chacha sniffin

[CHORUS 2X: Stresmatic]

[VERSE 2: E-40]
My lil grimey be lurkin and prowlin in the wee hours of the night
With the (?)
Lookin to bump heads or cross paths with anybody that he got a problem with
Lurkin at the gas station on some old floop shit
Trained and programed to go, about his dough
A hitter, no a barber but carry a extra clipper
Got hella next of kin cousins and uncles, up out the Rich
El Sobrante and Hercules teach him, taught him how to fish
My lil grimey nigga, all the time right behind me, nigga
On the block with the Glock where you can find me, nigga
They didn’t see his face, but everybody knew his name
Everybody knew his name, silhouette, his body frame
I wonder what set he claim? For the money, fuck the fame
Do he make it rain? Hell nah, he gangbang
My lil grimey nigga, keep a dumper stashed in his motor
Set to set robbin niggas, he’s a floater

[CHORUS 2X: Stresmatic]

E-40 – Me & My Bitch

[Hook:]
It’s just me (it’s just me mayne)
And my bitch (and my biatch)
She hates my guts (she hate my guts)
And makes me sick (I can’t stand her)
I curse her out (HOE!)
She cuss me out (sorry ass nigga!)
Then we make up (we make up mayne)
Fuck on the couch (on the couch) BIATCH! BIATCH!

[Verse 1:]
UHHH!
My main batch in the front yard finna fight my other batch
Try’na grab each other by each other hair and pull out a patch
Both of them got Vaseline on they face so they both don’t get scratched
My neighbors ain’t trippin (why?) cause they use to that
The police don’t response cause they know they won’t be right back
Togetha, foreva, like that? Yup like that
Never Chris Makin under? even though pressure bust sprits
My bitch got my back whether I’m wrong or I’m right
I’m a gangsta and not no little management psychosanian bad
A lightway part time convenience she like when I make her laugh
The other day we was jsut kickin it at powwowing and shit
Have a breakfast at the waffle house, cheese eggs and grits
Then all of a sudden come rushing some on mysterious bitch
Talking and hooping and hollering bout she pregnant and shit
I reached back as far as I can go I can get
Then I slapped the shit out that hoe with the back of my fist

[Hook]

[Verse 2:]
Seems like everytime a nigga get home (get home)
A nigga done did sumthin wrong (sumthin wrong)
Caught me sex texting on the smart phone (smart phone)
I’m like “what the fuck is this bitch on? ” (bitch on)
Her parents don’t really like her cause we know we be on that thug love
And they don’t get off in our business cause comments thicker than blood
But her brothers be try’na to test me size me up and mean mug
But they know that I pack that iron and I’m glued with the gloves
For the most part we cool and I respects they gangsta
I gotta baby by they sister we family I ain’t no stranger
Me and my bitch got one of them love/hate relationships we some fools
Break up to make up then fuck cussing arguing infused
She don’t wanna see me with her and I don’t wanna she her with you
But the problem with me and her is all we do is accuse
But at the end of the fuckin day, I’m her man not her mouse
She got mo money than me, but I wear the pants in this house (BIATCH!)

[Hook]

[Bridge:]
Can’t live with em, can’t live without em
We put our trust in, but we still doubt em
Me and my, me and my, me and, me and my bitch
Me and my, me and my, me and, me and my bitch
I love her panties my nigga she love my dirty draws
I love her panties my nigga she love my dirty draws (UHH!)
Can’t live with em, can’t live without em
We put our trust in but we still doubt em

[Hook]

E-40 – Let Him Have It

[E-40]
I never stayed my ass home I always thought that I was grown
In the traffic I was gone you see my head was made of stone
Got a problem with me?
Then feel free muthafucka Don’t be talkin under yo breath
Cuz that might be the cause of your death
Cuz I’ma quick to stop a nigga in his tracks main
So lets get this shit out in the open
I used to like to go from the shoulders get em up, one on ones
Now it’s a whole different ball game niggas that carry guns
A sucka will kill you first, and you will be layin in the hurst
Takin a deep ass sleep knowin it wasn’t worth
Provin you wasn’t a punk
Niggas don’t want to thump
Niggas just want to funk and shot up a niggas trunk
I met a bitch last week at the Orgen Room
Bought her a drink and said “whats up on the telly room?”
Just then I felt some trouble kickin in
Spotted her X-boyfriend who had just got out the pen
Muthafuckas get to baulkin when the liquors talkin
Drunk muthafucka step on my toe and kept on walkin
I said “what’s up with ya potna, say excuse me or somethin”
He turned around looked at me and started mean muggin
I guess he thought he pumped fear until I said
“Nigga don’t you know I’ll have you touchin everything in here”
He went for his pistol and didn’t know I was strapin
Dag nab it, I had to let him have it

What type of nigga did he think you was E?
I know he didn’t think that you were some kind of peanut or somethin.
He must of been retarded to the fact that you get a thrill out of killin
Now tell me somethin’ why do muthafuckas wait till that nigga commits
himself to realize that a hillside hillbilly is the wrong type of
nigga to Fuck with? E do you feel me?
Yeah I feel ya sahob
Well lets take it to the next page then
Oh you mean that part about the dungeon?
You Knoowww!!!

The next morning, I’m sittin in the dungeon-wonderin
Should I be dissed nope I did it in self defense
I wasn’t twisted, I hadn’t even started yet
It happened to fast before someone could stop me
I wish I had some DANK WEED
While I wait out these 24 more hours before I plead
Freedom I’m gonna miss ya (I wish I had some dice)
Made me some dice out of some water and toilet tissue
Now this the part thats fucked up
I walks into the dayroom manner room what the fuck
I never thought that I would straight make ah
The front page of the newspaper
Shut up a do wop, shut up a do wop
Man they bout to send me up state ah
Talking that shit about makin me a muthafuckin faggot
I make a shank outta plastic and let a nigga have it

That’s whats really goin down
Cuz when a muthafuckas down for the count
You gotta be about it or be without it
Cuz what a muthafucka once told me see a mark sleep
Leave him sleep in the middle of the street
If you can’t stand the heat stay up out the kitchen

Now I’m still in the county’s face
Fighting this funky ass 187 case
Shoot me a kite that’s a good way to mingle
I’ll be in this bitch eatin’ shit on the fuckin shingle
Gettin big as a house- bulkin up
400 club waiting for the Mercedes deep roll it up
My dream came true after almost 2 years of incareration
Now I’m out drinkin brew Havin fun with my folks
Lovin’ everybody gettin twisted and crackin jokes
Huggin anybody cryin
I missed every nigga in my click and I ain’t lyin
We bones out to a party
I’m on P-role but what can I say
I can’t let em know I’m stuck
I roast bitches but I’m not a damn peanut
Now I’m at the party thought I wasn’t
Dancin’ with the dead niggas fine ass cousin
I wonder if she thinkin’ my my my
The bitch been lovin me ever since Hogan High
She had some hard ass cousins that wasn’t wit it
They went out they way to make sure that I didn’t get it
But now tricks is for kids silly rabbit
I had to let em have
Muthafucka!
Muthafucka!
Mutha-Mutha-Mutha-Muthafucka!
Muthafucka!
Muthafuck-Muthafucka!

E-40 feat. Turf Talk & Mistah F.A.B – In This Thang Breh

We in this thang breh!

[Chorus: repeat 8X]
(We in this thang breh) We in this thang breh

[E-40]
E-40! Uhhh
A half-animal block babboon (a monster)
The valedictorian of the yola game, graduated with high honors
Used to serve and push that candy cane, standin in front of my momma’s
house, now I’m leanin over the rail and standin on top of the couch
Wash my face with a brand new hundred dollar bill
In this bit’, keepin it lit, me and my Click (me and my Click) devilish
Hella chicks, extra clips (extra clips) hella spliffs
TMZ takin flicks (TMZ takin flicks)
Nine times out of ten I’ma leave with a 10
Run a little game, maybe fuck her friends
Ask her what’s her name, tell me one mo’ gen
I don’t see no rangs, so you ain’t got no man
(What about yo’ mackin mayne?) Ain’t no lackin in my mackin
Some of my niggaz in here trappin, some of my niggas in here flaggin
(In her FLAGGIN!) Man I hope y’all don’t get to clappin
Only clappin I’m tryin to hear is a female ass clap

[Chorus]

{Let’s go Turf!}

[Turf Talk]
Polo, everything, they should endorse me
I swear – that should be my face on that horsey
Man I might be the hardest we got
And yeah I’ma get this money regardless or not
(Yeah!) We in this thang breh – if it’s funky, get it on
We get in this thang breh – reactin! (Reactin!)
Turf Talk too damn hard on ‘em (hard on ‘em)
Ten bottles, guess who ordered ‘em?
Ten chains, guess who wearin ‘em? (Wearin ‘em)
Ten guns, guess who carry nem! (Carry nem)
Got my money first, divin in her purse
Bitch you cain’t have none of my mine, I’m spendin all of hers
I guess it’s time to get my buzz up (get my buzz up)
Leave the dope alone Turf, put the guns up (put the guns up)
Man, it’s almost gone
AY! Please fill my styrofoam

[Chorus]

[Mistah F.A.B.]
The club, yeah, ayyy, grind-ing!
Pull up to the club, on my iPhone tweetin
Hit @E40 like #ImInThisThangBreh!
Some ol’ nigga I went to high school with
came up to me lookin all strange
talkin ’bout “family you changed”
I’m like #YouBeinALameBreh!
Get out my way; hey it’s too many hoes up in this thang
for a nigga to be all in my ear tryin to kick it like Liu Kang
This shit bang! It’s slappin like domestic problems
My brother Fresh Al got that look like don’t mess with potnah
I’m swagged up, big horsey on my shirt!
Match the L.V. on my shoes, niggaz better guard they work
I’m turnin P.I.’s to heckler hoe protectors
Better look down, cause if I see eyes, girl I’m fin’ to check her
Went all through her purse like Frank Gore for the first
Niggaz be actin like they hard, but they really just be nurse
Puttin niggaz on mack blast like, breh you gotta prove it!
Mistah F.A.B. and 40 only ones left from the movement

[Chorus]

E-40 – I’ma Teach Ya How To Sell Dope

Bust open the yola, then you throw it in the pot
Mix that soda with that water, make that motherfucker lock
Chop it up and bag it, then ya flood the whole block
With that candy, cha-cha, white lobster, ready rock

(Dope)
(Dope)
(Dope)
(Do-do-dope)
(I’ma teach you how to sell)
(I’ma teach you how to sell)
(I’ma teach you how to sell)
(I’ma teach you how to sell dope)

The money come fast when pushin them grams
You get what you can, there’s no retirement plan

[VERSE 1:]
Every move that I make is a calculated step
Gotta be careful what you say and who you conversatin with
I came in the game with nada, I left with a couple of dollars
That’s the way I wanna be remembered up in this here yola game, partner
See, it’s ‘posed to be temporarily and momentarily but I’m stubborn
I put everything in my alias, I don’t put nothin in my government
Stay with a cinnamon roll extension, extra cartridge drawn
Ain’t no retirement plan or pension, catch you slippin, run
I got straight A’s across the board, my ghetto report card never flunked
They gon’ have to kill me on the spot, I ain’t gettin off in nobody’s trunk
Never take my chances by fuckin them up and punch
Scuffle and try to take his gun
I rather get a flesh wound ‘stead of land up in attendance
“Throw me a stimulus package, my niggga, throw your nigga a bone”
That’s what my OG said to me when he touched down, when he came home
I reached up in my pizznockets, shot him a thou-wow and a zone
Got a digital scale application on my iPhone

[VERSE 2:]
If you plan on goin to yolanary school, one of the first things they teach ya
Give your mama enough money to bury ya
And if you’re backed up in a corner and the po-po Elroy question you
Never give up yo plug and tell on you or your crew
Some of the perks and amenities and benefits of sellin D
If you a ghetto celebrity you can almost get anything for free
Bitches gon’ wanna fuck ya, and niggas gon’ wanna be ya
Haters gon’ wanna pluck ya, so you better pack a (?)
Every swing of the bat, every snap of the ball, every lay-up (?) counts
I know some dudes that been gridin for years and the police still ain’t never found
No cha-cha, no dope on ‘em, you know why, cause he don’t touch it
And he don’ be braggin, flycoonin and showin off, he drive a bucket
We didn’t bring in all this dope, you traffic patrollin coast guard
We don’t own no planes and boats, in the ghetto we got it hard
I’ma keep it all the way 300, I’ma keep it all the way funky and solid
I got mo’ partners behind them walls than I do in college

[VERSE 3:]
Ridin with a couple of bricks, and the police on yo hips?
Take they ass on a high speed, throw the (?) over the bridge
And if it ain’t no water around, throw that shit up on a roof
That way it ain’t hand to hand and they ain’t got no proof
Always let somebody in your circuit know who you coppin your sugar from
Just in case you end up, wind up havin a little more dough than him
Cause dudes be gettin jealous and put yo head on a platter
Funkin lesson number seven – never outshine the master
In the cha-cha game, wanna know how to sell dope proper?
One of the things you better do is go to your local trucker store and purchase a kick do stopper
Made by Master Lock and under yo mattress in yo capness you better have a chopper
Or a glock or a stapler or a thumper or a pistol
A rifle or a Uzi for the smunkish and the goony
Keep yo conversations limited, snitchin is prohibited
Take it to the grave with ya, never say who did it
Biatch

E-40 – Hillside

[Reporter:]
Thus topic of news right now surveillance cameras
Captured a terrifying attack at a store in Vallejo

[Chorus:]
Ridin through the turf, on Magazine
You know I stay strapped, with a magazine
Put it to your face, like a magazine
I stay on the case, cause I’m from Magazine
Nigga I’m from Hillside
H.I.L.L.S.I.D.E
Nigga I’m from Hillside
H.I.L.L.S.I.D.E

[Verse 1:]
H.I.L.L.S.I.D.E
M.A.G.A.Z.I.N.E. Vallejo, California my city
No pity, for a sucka can’t be no sissy
Motherfuckers smoke weed like a hippy, get tipsy, like Wine-O’s, stay whisky
Country ass city boys with honey rifles bring the ruckus
Beverly Hillbillies big old corn-fed motherfuckers
What’cha mean my nigga, got every narcotic in the world for sale
I ain’t Wayne Brady but let’s make a deal
Like Drew Carey, mane the price is right
I got pills, trees and that white white white
The Hillside, have money have heart
Just like the Watts column we got the kidney walk
That’s the hood landmark like John Davidson Park
Cutlass Oldsmobile thangs cruisers and larks
Posted with thumps ginormous oversize guns
Me and my potnas my brothers and my cousins

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
Uhh!
When I was a young cope a lion though a young cat baby buffler
Money and muscle born in the struggle, turf wars not tug-a-war
Shootouts, high speeds, on top of the roof and trees
On the side of the house with cages, rifles and 223′s
Back then it used to be pagers not Wi-fi and 4G
When I was seventeen me and my crew went half on a key
Now I’m making more in a day and my momma making a week
Jewelry, clothes, new shoes on my feet
Having my cabbage hella slap a laffish trunk full of prop
Roofers, tweeters and horns, doing they fuckin job
Getting em up thrown em, bobbing and weaving beastin’
Nickeling up with OG’s in the middle of the street in
Earning my strips and medal no process Zurich-est gold
Pickos in the summer, even when it ain’t cold
I throw my H in the sky, everywhere I go makes you wide
If they ask you where I’m from, tell em Hillside

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Alhambra, Beverly Drive, La Brea
Earl Street, Carmel, Didion Court, Wilshire
Hollywood Ave, Volute, Magazine Street rolling
Half of my cash yolkin, punching the gas smokin’
[?] parking my car in the grass feeling good
Sitting on top of the hood be flicking and serving knocks pushing bags, giving them love juh
24 hour shift and grittin everyday all day
7-11 turf for even a lil warmed up in the microwave
Hillside for life, always been about my bread
Look up to Alick, Rick Young, Too-Shay, Ju Ju and OG Nitch
Jon Jon and Robert Craig, Victor, Cook and Tyrone and em
Miss Smith and Loney Smurf, Jimmy Blackman and all of them
See the spot right here, this used to be Mr. Jimmy’s
Why give a Wine-O a dollar to buy a beer for me?
Around the corner from the Travelodge and Mickey D
You ‘lible to find me at the Kit-Way Bowling alley
BEATCH!

[Chorus]

E-40 – Hide 'n' Seek

[E-40]
I’m in some deep shit, I got some niggas from another click
On that ass trying to run me off a fuckin cliff
What should I do? Where should go?
How could I fake ‘em?
Bust a bitch on that ass and try and shake em and bake em
Full speed ahead, I know they want my ass dead
Still on my bumper, makes a motherfucker wonder
All the dirt that I did, should just let them get me
Maybe its because I killed Rodney and his whole family
Revenge, I see my life flashing, niggas blasting
Brothas passing, trying to make me stay crashing
Into the rocks beside me, fucking up the traffic
17th in a Malibu Chevy classic
But I’m nothing humble, just call me Yapeez Pasano
Full tank of petro, mobbin through the fucking tunnel
Shit it’s bright, I think I see some daylight
Over the night, you should have seen a brothas sides right
Fit the corners on two shoes, I’m holly G
Wrapping my shit around a fifty foot oak tree
Got out the car, seeing stars, I wasn’t lagging
Ran out and hid behind a beat up station wagon

[Hook]
You’ve never seen a bitch nigga run so fast

[E-40]
Bouncing, sneaking, and peaking, hitting bushes and shit
Never saw, like you did in that movie clip
Steady busting, these motherfuckers ain’t bluffing
I’m hauling ass and renting bullets, constantly cussing
Scared as fuck, I wasn’t trying to act hard
Thumbs up, and ran in a back yard
Just as I was hoping the sliding door was wide open
Out of breath, I locked the door and started talking
I need some help, I gotta bounce, someone’s after me
Please don’t panic, I need your help drasticly
I’m not a G, a killer, or a rapist
I’m just a ordinary black man trying to make this
Busting my bubble, the couple didn’t even freak
They said relax, I’ll make some coffee, have a seat
The man said, whats your name bro
Shit I don’t know, you might decide to call the po-po
He said that ain’t my thang, I used to be a leader of a gang
Shot twice in my chest
I got wounds, where I’ve been stabbed
He took off his shirt and showed my his scab
I said damn partner, how the fuck you survive some shit like that
Like that there without going into a coma
He said the Lord spared my life
So I could talk to people like you and teach them right
I was a dope pusher, big time drug abuser
Alcoholic, dog blumer, but a shooter
All together working from the floor
I said I better twist so I can call her
Now I’m reached from coast to coast
Said to saved from the holy ghost
I know you think your trapping
But let me pray for you junior and see what happens