1.Boss Baller
Lyricist：Danell L. Stevens, Marvin Whitemon
Aw shit, that blunt ain't nuttin' nice man
Peep game though, yeah, shit
One mo' spot for the nigga named Shot
With the D in the front
Time to give 'em what they want
Hoes wanna affiliate they self with the shot caller
'Cause they know I'm a baller, I'm representin' Nathan
But the V click shit, E-40 and B legit, now we might clip some
shit
And to you tramp ass hoes it goes something like this
You can call me on the under
But you can never meet Shot on that alias number
The hoes ball down to my SC 4 double 0 but what they don't know
A motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
Who knows a motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
I break niggas like bitches in a game of craps
No screws on my cruise but a gang of straps
It ain't my fault, I ain't trippin' like I try to tell hoes
At the club on my knock it's them Streisand hoes
Six-footer on the scale she's a 1-6-0
Big shot from the block fixin' to knock this ho
At the club way perved on some shit E hooked
Me and V was choppin' game about this bitch I shook
Chased her through the town like a young greyhound
Shot caller gettin' ghost bitch I'm out this town
Hurricane in my system makes my Lexus run
You can call me on the under bitch but you gets none
A motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
Who knows a motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
Now let you tellit D-Shot is a big fella
A Click fella, at 2-6-0 I'm a thick fella
And my side hogs and my dogs know the rest
When funk was on I wore a triple X vest
In the drought season I went rock for rock
I guess that's why they say I knock harder than a d-spot
And hoes ooh I'm on them sluts and tramps
You can ride on my trunk just don't blow up my amps
But never shotgun Shot don't have one to fit a gender
Six-foot breakin' she's a bender
Tryin' to chase the coupe as I smob through the V
Punk ass ho you don't know a thing about me
A motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
Who knows a motherfuckin' thang about D-Shot
'Cause he's got way mo' knots than a d-spot
A boss baller comin' out the V
The D to the S to the H O T
2.The Shit That Will Fuck With Your Brain Boy
Lyricist：Stevens Earl, Brandt Jones, Scott Larock, Lawrence Parker,
Todd Anthony Shaw, Scott Sterling, Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin
Whitemon
Money, money, money by the ton
A nigga livin' life, thangs well (Way too fat man)
Gold, diamonds, and rubies (Just plushed out)
Sittin' in the lounge, puffin' on indo
Hoes, Nintendo, and doobies (Lovely)
Brothers gettin' bored from the daily routine
(Let's go deep in the Chevy, look at motherfuckers mean)
Man those motherfuckers can't rap (Well let's sag)
Homeboy you ain't livin' life
The motherfuckers ride is souped up (Souped up)
But if hot ones if fired, niggas better duck
And I'ma make the Chevy run faster than a money counter man
D Shot hangin' out, what you wanna do with a mack 10 stand
These are the things ya need to know man
This shit I'm spittin' niggas don't understand
When I first heard this shit I even tripped
And I made it up, ain't that a bitch
I was burnt, twisted, full of it and drunk
You know, just like you sayin' '40 ain't no punk'
Wild as a cat, man this nigga got some game
Servin' for the purpose you know, not for the fame
This is the shit that will fuck with your brain boy
It's the shit that will fuck with your brain
This is the shit that will fuck with your brain boy
It's the shit that will drive you insane
Brothers kickin' it with DeNiel (Mack D Shot)
Gettin' busy bout the motherfuckin' mail (Straight paper)
Don't worry about a sucker (A punk motherfucker)
Cause I throw these thangs too swell (Tea cake)
Hopped in the motherfuckin' drop (Like that)
Struck to the motherfuckin' block (Better knew as the spot)
Seen a man in tan tryin' to serve on my land
And shine dropped a motherfucker like he was hot (Lil' ol' pimp)
My people from the Bay understand this (Like me)
And when shot from my mouth, I don't miss (Bullseye)
A word, phrase, now a clause
I spit game just for the cause (Money hurt G)
Renee called Nicole (That's my ho)
And Shawn fired up the weed (Zesty)
Nicole on the scanner had heard the word
That we was caught in a high-speed (Now that's drama)
In a cell with no bail, so what can I say
Caught a case of seventeen on his way to I-A
Yeah, so why does county sheriff try to get with my brother's
program
But you know that I know that mack D Shot don't give a damn
This is the shit that will fuck with your brain boy
It's the shit that will fuck with your brain
This is the shit that will fuck with your brain boy
It's the shit that will drive you insane
It's about cash, cars, hoes, money
Coke we deal and that shit ain't funny
I been around this type of shit all my life
A nigga can't tell me shit about the price
It's like a school fool and I get paid
Havin' any room for any teachers made
The bullets that I drop are hot like gonorrhea
See ya
Never learn and so ya burn my friend
And now ya know that niggas wasn't even jokin' man
Niggas try to jon my click so they can get with me
Come to find out the faculty has no vacancy
Ain't that a trip, ain't that a bummer
Man those motherfuckers tried to apply last summer
It's bitches on my tip man, I can't shake her
I send her to the track, tell her come back with paper
I need mail another word for money (Oh)
I want it fat like King Kong Bundy
Pager boomin' seriously
Material bitch in agony
Need to penetrate the crevice very badly
Get with the program slut, don't just interrupt
It's way too many skeezers out there wantin' me to fuck
The Bay Area my borther, that's where the real shit happens
Niggas don't be barkin' just mackin' and campin'
Slappin' hoes, triple Daytons and Vogues
Top half strikin' in the 89 Rolls
Never would let a nigga play me like I'm bad though boy
My haircut is done by London Pope
B go get the four door, mob station wagon (Like that)
On the double cause niggas can't be laggin'
Load up the back with gas, we need a boat-load of ammo
This shit is real, not the movie 'Commando'
And this'll be the light em' up scandal
And when I'm done (Blow em' out like candles)
See what I'm talkin' bout, don't take the wrong route
Ya try to get in the mix and get took out
Yeah, as far as you tryin' to fuck with niggas man
Who really and truly can't get fucked with man
You don't understand
It's way too serious on this Northside of Cali man
But you don't hear me cause you think this shit is funny
It's about cash, cars, hoes money
Coke we deal and the shit ain't funny
I been around this type of shit all my life
A nigga can't tell me shit about the price
13-8 A cake, it ain't fade
Sliced and rocked in thirty-six fuckin' ways
Sold to the public, to the boys, to the gangstas
Crews, staff, tribes, clans, clicks, and pranksters
Break down the D, cut it up in boulders
Brothers with the heart to roll, I call em' soldiers
Now I'm gonna stall and pause and take a sip
Finish the remains of the forties that I ripped
How about that
3.Tired Of Being Stepped On
Lyricist：Stevens Earl, Brandt Jones, Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas
Stevens, Marvin Whitemon
Mack D-Shot, brought up by the middle class
I did time for crime 'cause I was living fast
I spent two on the lockdown in Preston
To hire me is way out the question
Jail cells for a black man's punishment
Didn't give a damn 'cause the other man's runnin it
Now I'm back on the streets, I gotta compete so
But you can't beat no case
When you're trapped in the system
The government, want you to diss them
Now I'm back on the bed, where I once slept on
I'm tired of being stepped on
I ain't prejudiced, I gots nathan on the white man
I'm only down for my folks who is right and
So what's wrong with potnah with the gat on the job
He wanna squab 'cause it seems I'm the mob
Pull you over, then he searchin your whole car
Fo' deep and you gotta be the rock star
'So where's the crack main？ So where's the gats main？
You know you brothers, you call it a black thang'
I'm not in your hood, up to no-good-ism
So won't you go on with all the old racism
Unless you want me to take, the law in my own hands
'Cause dude, I'm a strong man
And that's a black man, tired of being stepped on
In the late night, always get crept on
By some authority who needs to really be fired
'Cause Legit is straight tired
Play Bay, back of hill and up there by Real
Twenty-two months of eatin that stuff on a shingle
Ninety days left, I'm almost out of jail
On a mission about my meal, to the hillside of Vallel
There I will sell, rocks so slick
Build up clientele, and hit the task hill
No other choice, I'm on parole I got a felony
I look for a job, but then they diss me, diss me
Man, my mother is disabled I ain't got no food on the table
All I can afford is noodles with the generic label
This goes on for about a week and a half
I need to think fast, I need some cash let me water my grass
And make it greener, then I started think of all types of
Gimmicks and gadgets, as I looked through the cabinets
Man, what should I do my friend, hop in the game again？
I guess I'm headed for the pen
4.It's All The Same
Lyricist：William, Jr. Calhoun, Anthony Douglas Gilmour, Brandt Jones,
Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, Tenina Stevens, Bryan
Williams
Nigga, come on, nigga, yeah
Take it to the house
Yeah, yeah, yeah Dub C, 40 Widah
D-Shot
I know ya in the movies and ya pager's goin' off
You got a call from the boss, you seen the code 2236
You makin' excuse, you got to piss
Even though you at the phone dialin' all seven digits
You got to move with the quickness
Before ya dude gets suspicious and shit
Get to trippin' and shit, get the sock in this bitch
Get to turnin' Doctor Jekyll on hoes
'Cause if he flauntin' dough, he can't take the blows
Ay ho, ay ho
Get 'em again, get 'em again
Pick yo celly up, I wanna fuck
Ho, what's happenin' back at cha？
Get it at cha, once the pussy askin'
You know that ignorant bastard
Pockets full of Ziploc bags, it's ripped nasty
Met you at the Benz dealership in T-shirt and khakis
Crafty over the mic like cookie chips, it's the criminal
Known for C-walkin' in the pussy lips
Let them suckers take care of ya ho, like 40
I just wanna click with you and dick you
From Cape to the Bay Area, bury ya
Flashin' the dick in ya tonsils
Bend you over and fuck you by my studio councils
Poundin' a shady nigga layin' the wood
Video tapin' me hittin' it from the back
Throwin' up the hood, yeah, you like that bitch
The square ass weights tellin' you ain't never been choked
Or done fucked by a felon, no K-Y jellin', just tryin' to inhale
it
So when ya ready for the real bitch hit me on my cellin'
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(It's all gravy whodi)
Wherever we go
(Nigga, please believe)
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(Fo' sheezy, baby)
Wherever we go
I set rules in this game, I pop my bra, I claim fame
I do my thug thesis, got the world singin' speak of me
I do no jockin' the clock don't stop clockin'
I'm a top notch and my itinerary stay crackin'
I'm mackin' boss bitch, hell I'm pimpin'
I'm on one, I have no mercy I go sick with it
Like cash money we click with it, hey, hey
Super bad, super bad, say, say
Check the pass man, foot on the gas man
I wrap em' up in cashmere and trade em' for cash man
You dig, my sick face down on the side of my hip
I'm seventeen deep with heat so don't trip
I sip malt liquor all of the suds
My bomb is E-coli the murderous buds
I blaze Philly blunts all in the clubs
Keep a bald fade for the bitches to rub
I thug for mine that's the difference with me
From the ball playin' nigga that ya see on TV
I escalate up to the spot on the Hill
Fill you up with Hennessey and ecstasy pills
Fuck you in the mind if ya just sit still
Opened up some game and I let that spill
Bitches love playas 'cause they keep that real
The shit is all the same, ya feel
Yeah, it's all international baby, ya feel
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(It's all gravy whodi)
Wherever we go
(Nigga, please believe)
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(Fo' sheezy, baby)
Wherever we go
But every time I spit this game
These L I P's these niggas know my name
You see my name is E-Feezy
These hoes be lovin' me
Ya gotta be a special lady and a very exciting girl
Yo, I'm slammed, lookin' savy in the back of the crackhouse
In the bathroom choppin' up and baggin' up my cavy
You must be blankin' off them blankin' thangs
Who the fuck you think you dealin' with？
I hold up, I ain't gon' rescue no bitch
I'll slap ya upside ya nooda, bitch
Talkin' that shit, I'ma buy ya ass some Prada
Some Norman Camali, the Mazda MX or Miati
I ain't gon' lie you got some good ass lush fire punana
But I ain't sprung even though you been handlin' on
Been suckin' the peel off the banana with yo big ass lips and
gums
Swallowin' down my cum, runnin' around there
With yo big ass tongue, you're hangin' out your thong
You wanna stay with ya hard ass workin', baby, dada
He loves ya dirty draws, he'll drink ya bath water
He'll let ya ass go clubbin'
He ain't gon' be trippin' off nothin' you mention
He know you something
He know you can't turn a tramp into a good woman
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(It's all gravy whodi)
Wherever we go
(Nigga, please believe)
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(Fo' sheezy, baby)
Wherever we go
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(It's all gravy whodi)
Wherever we go
(Nigga, please believe)
It' all the same
(These hoes wanna marry a nigga)
The same ol' game
(Then turn around and bury a nigga)
It's all the same
(Fo' sheezy, baby)
Wherever we go
5.She Was Only 16
Lyricist：Larry Blackmon, Tomi Jenkins, Charles K Wilson, Ronnie James
Wilson
Hey what's up, E
Ah, I can't call it just chill like an alcoholic
It's like that huh, yeah
Hey what's up with lil' baby you had last night yo
Ah she was cute and shit but I had to put on my clown suit
Check it out
Only sixteen, thick as fuck
Gigantic size tits, big ass bust
She ain't trippin' her tight jeans was fittin' manish
Mint condition man, major damage
Potent dope, no joke
Bottle of suffix, I knew she wasn't smokin' no coke
Look hella tempted while I'm mustin'
The bad thing about it I was pressed in her cousin Tangy
But that's another story though
Nothin' worth relevant, let's talk about the sixteen year old
Sexy and seducitve, quite impressive
I macked on baby, when she least expect it
Dryin' her clothes at the neighborhood laundry
'Can I help you, oh by the way my name is E, baby'
She said, 'I already know my cousin done spilled her guts'
Told she did some stuff in yo 1970 cut
I replied, 'Is that right', the boss and the hideous
That tight ass bitch, Tangy ain't got nothin' on this
As far as havin' me get, I spit the playa poppin' con
I put that piece in the box, snatched her up and we was gone
I said, 'What about yo nigga, the boss and hood bounty
Wasn't he supposed to pick yo ass up', she said, 'Fuck him'
I said, 'Let's go get twisted', she said, 'My house ain't far
I got a king-sized bed, satin sheets and a bar'
To the velvet rugs, past the liquor store
She said, 'Man well just step on it, moms get home at four'
I said 'Okay, no problem', hella juice from the beat
Smashed on the gas, I see her house down the street
I finally made it, what is this here？
Baby came out the kitchen with a trunk full of quarter beer
I rushed to the niznack time for sex
Like my partner Waldo, E-40 at his best
She was kind of tense, yeah it made sense
I said to myself, 'I might have to hit that there fence'
She said, 'Let's calm down, we really gotta check it'
'I don't know about you but I'm ready to get butt naked'
She said, 'Me too', then I said, 'Cool'
Unzipped my pants showed her my dick like a fool
She said, 'I'm so hot', touchin' her crotch
Stripped down to nathin' laid on the couch
My shit ain't even in, clitoris tinglin'
Give me some more that what the hiefer was mumblin'
'Let's get on the floor', that's what I had to say
She said, 'I like it from the back', I said, 'The rectum or the
crevay'
Ass in the air, I'm about to dig up in her
Went in the crib but thought before I entered
Chlamydia no, I better check that ho
Dug in my ear the wax let me make it clear
The finger that I use, stuck it in the grill
Searched for some cups if it burns its chlamydia
Old day tactic taught by my uncle
If ya gonna have the front hold it tight don't fumble
Armed with the test, not a pain or sting
This I presume that the bitch is kind of clean
Unzip the Trojan, better safe than sorry
Stretched it to fit, told it feel like calamari
Am I makin' love, she said, 'No ya not'
'Should I keep it up？', she said, 'I'm nuttin' don't stop'
'How does it feel？', She said, 'Such a large cock!'
I continue to tax the bitch like H and R Block
Back in forth, forth and back just call me ball
These rug burns got my knees feelin' kind of raw
She's bustin' nuts repeatedly can't be mad at me
I'm lastin' longer than a Duracell battery
To the lessons of clock, got pin and a cock
Got two and a half non-stop and the door ain't locked
I'm out of line like a patient
Went deep into the fallopian tubes, released my frustration
Moms walks in, sniffin' and shit
Actin' like she wanted some of this big dick
She said, 'My tits, clit be hard as brick ya aught to try it'
She said, 'Move over girl, let me show ya how to ride it'
She started lickin' my dick with much philosophy
I'm feelin' like I won the lottery
From the head to the scrotum gobblin'
She even sucked my toes something slobberin'
Don't even tweak, I'm a nympho ya didn't know
I said, 'What sign is you？', she said, 'Scorpio ya know'
Oh, so that's what went down with ol' baby right
I thought you heard
I told ya man, the facts been proven man
These sedity hoes be chosen
Like that, why don't ya switch ya partner number man
I wanna see this type of game ya know
Ya know that ain't no problem, I sign off
If I got to, you still got them black jack things
I thought you heard, let's go get twisted or something though
Yeah, you too though, I got that too
Ah, front it man, all them cops glidin'
You know they on that shit, yeah
6.Tramp Dogs
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Marvin Whitemon
Oh, ha, ha
Man, all bitches be tryin' to run a funky ass game
They be like way out with that ol' shit man
I know, man, what's up
You ever hook up with that bitch E hooked you up with
No man but I ran into this ol' school bitch though
Man she tried to run that same ol' shit
The same ol' punk shit
Man, check it out
Bumped into a bitch named Candy
Met her late night, kind of perved off brandy
Dick on numb and I was strikin' the O's
And that's the same bitch that wants to fuck my mo's
Pass the chance, I wanna bone the bitch
I gave her my number with the code 0-6
I told her to call when the nights get cold
And maybe she can ride on the three times gold
Game much colder than a twenty below
'Cause baby beeped back and was ready to go
Now my nigga, told me when I'm in pursuit
It's nathin' but Lance open after two
So I hops in my Cut and I'm about tah
Take this bitch to my house, ah
No, she ain't comin' from Legitimate B
'Cause hoes to me is tramp d's
And that's a tramp, nigga, a straight up bitch
Fuckin' with Legit 'cause she figure I'm rich
But I'm just to make her dome swoll
Wait till I get her in the day room
The day room man where I get the draws
Bang the walls 'cause it ain't no laws
Because soon as I get her, I'ma spank her
Hit it real hard then I shrink her
Ah, yeah, she one of them late night hoes
One of them late night broads, man, it's two in the morning, ya
know
Ah, I already know the program, I know why shit is
Yeah, I ran her pants ya know
Ha, ha, ha
And Candy was a bitch like Dandy
Diggin' for gold, with a kid buyin' Huggies by the boat load
Black shear shirt with the see through sleeves
Thicker than a block of that government cheese
She used to have a man but he's up state
Snuck, when I call her but I stay
And dude'll never ever see baby again
She needs another nigga to giver her some ends
So I peeps game and plays the role
And tell her how good she'll look in some gold
That must have been it, her magical spot
'Cause after that, have baby straight on top
Ridin', askin' if Legit can mack
And I was tryin' to give the bitch, brain damage
She can keep fuckin' Legitimate B
'Cause hoes to me is tramp d's
And that's a tramp nigga, a straight up bitch
Fuckin' with Legit cause she figure I'm rich
But I'm just to make her dome swoll
Wait till I get her in the day room
Day room
Yeah, day room
Shit
Really don't know what the day room about though
Yeah, you'll have to tell me
Tell me about that
The day room man where I'm gettin' the draws
And baby tryin' to strip paint off the walls
Bashed the bitch and hittin' it swell
Holdin' on to her fake ponytail
A nigga, like Legit straight tore shit up
Hit it from the back and dropped a nut in her gut
And that's about the time that the shit had changed
The tramp dog bitch, started runnin' her game
About bein' depressed, down and out
And havin' no mail in her bank account
But all I can do when I listen to that
Is give her a biggie and find a sack
Meet me at the track about three fifteen
And we can talk about makin' us some green
Give me a call, the Hillside Hog
But bitch, you'll still be a tramp dog
Yeah, it's like this though man
You know, I played the game with bitches right, right
It's like this, the first one comes wins, ya know, right
And I'm undefeated, undefeated, ha, ha
And it's like this, if the bitch don't cum when I cum
Then she cum when I come back
Oh, like that, like that
Ya know what I'm sayin', right
If she want mail, she ain't gettin' shit
Bitch you better get a job or something
Ya know, bitch
Yeah, so I come through the drive thru
And you don't say, â½Shit, bitchâ
McDonald's, Burger King, what not Taco Bell
Really want the check though, ol' bitch
You owe me ya buck, bitch
That's my money, ha, ha, ha
Motherfucker come off that shit
Look she got five sixty
Oh, a real ho
Nigga, that's rent at the Hillside Terrace
What I say, that's what I'm talkin' about
Hey, man, but now I'm gone
Hey, man, but find some hoes, we can hook up with later on
Like that
Yeah, call the bitches back
Well I'll get 'em though
7.Let's Get Drunk
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin
Whitemon
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
I'm sideways doin' about a buck fifty
Drunk and on some of that top of the line high on Carlos Rossi
Drunk about a gallon to the dome, then that's the hit
Everything's blurry, burnt twisted eyes bloodshot red, straight
up on four
Don't forget about Legit though
Danked out, and full of that Cisco
Siding with the proper dame, I don't know her name
But I'm lovin' this part of the game
And I'ma take her for a real ride, yeah
Somewhere deep in the hillside
I got about a eighth in the cooler
I thinks this just might do her, might do her？
And ain't nobody gonna stop me main, yeah
Once I gets her sloppy main, sloppy main
Drunk as a skunk, and high as a kite
I hope I don't earl on baby tonight
Used to be sophisticated, but now she's intosticated
High society stuck up broad, violated then graduated
If we was the seven, can we get eight？ Sure
Just by you forgettin' to say, yeah
And then the question later, just like my big ol' middle finger
Such an ignorant question, sittin' in the corner blushin'
It's really no problems I'ma go head and side and like I'm hecka
stuck
And watch baby drink up
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Mack D-Shot needin' a dose of that gin
'Cause I'm in it to win, as I'm tossin' a ten
To plug it right, that is my motive
To dig real dip, as I explose this
And watch the expression, on her face, yeah
It gets me off as I collaborate
But that's how it goes another night, another session
But the tender straight taught me a lesson
Night number two, yeah I know I shoulda been sober
But now I'm advanced, and I'm about to bend her over
I can't get enough of that fetti for real
And now I'm hopin' that she's on the pill, yeah
Day number three, I'm well prepared
I got my Eight Ball, and I'm ready to tear
I'm stiffer than a doorknob, I do the job
Enough to tell a friend, that D got in
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
L-let's get drunk
Now drink up, let's get drunk
And throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Here we go again, and I'm in pursuit
I gotta hit the liquor store before two
'Cause me and D-Shot big and Dan
Needs us a case of them tall cans
It's not a birthday, but let's celebrate
And get hella keyed 'cause it's hella late
I gotta thank God that I'm still alive
'Cause last night I died about 3：45
I hit the lights quick and I jumped in the bed
And somethin' went real wrong with my head
The room started spinnin' and I needed a breeze
And somethin' told me nigga don't you breathe
Dehydrated, nauseated, got a bad case of hiccup
Gotta go fetch some H2R, feel like I'm fits to upchuck
Gots ta have it, looks into the medicine cabinet
Hmm, there it is, plop plop fizz, fizz, oh what a fuckin' relief
it is
Mumblin' and grumblin' goes my stomach growling
I'm sick as the fuck I see the Devil smiling
It's like a motor, I think I got a damn ulcer and shit
Every other fuckin' day I'm tellin' my sahies I quit
But you know that's drama, niggaz be barkin, they ass off
Life is too boring, that's why I wakes up in the morning
Pervin', swearvin', runnin' all into the curb and
Twisted on some of that cherry flavored Bourbon, yeah
I wanna get drunk, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, now drink up, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, now drink up, let's get drunk
Get drunk, and throwup in the car, let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, now drink up, let's get drunk
Get drunk, l-let's get drunk
I wanna get drunk, now drink up, let's get drunk
Get drunk, and throwup in the car, let's get drunk
Let's get drunk, l-let's get drunk
Let's get drunk, l-let's get drunk
Let's get drunk, l-let's get drunk
Let's get drunk, l-let's get drunk
8.Mic Check
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Mike Mosley, Earl Thomas Stevens, Joe Tex
Testing testing one two
Te-testing testing one two
Testing testing one two
Te-testing testing one two
Muthafuckas don't understand how we do it check game
I take a slow beat, and do a fast rap
I'm not a mark simp trick or a punk sap
I bust the lyrics so quick you must admit my rhymes on hit
You know that nigga from the click the one that be talkin' all
that shit
So take a puff of the potent dank while I make yo ass thank
Then go mobbin' through the town on a full tank
Crank up the beat, voice tress, make that shit throb
Stick yo head out the window and say what's up sahib
I take a slow beat, and bust a slow rhyme
You see the motherfuckin' dank will do it all the time
It gets me in the mood, that is so relaxed
Stalking with gen and then I gotta tax
So now I'm on baby with the top down
Reload pound, call Legit a cock hound
And I'm looking for a bitch that's known foe
I heard she could blow, I wanna hook her at my studio
That's right, fool its the calvary, so don't be mad at thee
We spittin' that good stuff on the mic for a salary
My name is E-40 and I'm known as a hill billy
Straight from the Hillside of the V
I'm having money, I got my feddi on
I'm popping con, just to fuck with your dome, like right about
now
You should be saying, 'Dude kinda tight though'
But let me hush before I start up a fight you know
As far as funk man I think you outta not
Even attempt to run up you'll get taught
By some chitterlings eating hog maw
Niggas that be beating down fools putting suckers to sleep
We walks around stage looking heck of Humongous
Rappers step up and get pilled like a sun kiss
We them fools that you've been hearing about The Click
The word on the streets is that we comin' up too quick
Some might think I'm slanging yola, ice cream, candy see but
They done fucked around and let us blacks make money legally
Now it's gotten to the point to where it's really uncontrollable
40 takes advantage of the rap game gullible
Testing testing one two
Te-testing testing one two
Testing testing one two
Te-testing testing one two
I take a slow beat, like I did at first
'Cuz I'm still with the bitch in the first verse
She's down on her knees, and I'm on the dank
I would stop pluggin' but you know I can't
Never been down with O.P.P without money
So hear this shit here honey
I know you got mail, it's close to the first
You should have a fat ass knot in your purse
So once you start nuttin' get a Jackson
Then for me, you always get action
And fuck a tore up ass hoochie with a withered ass coochie
See a nigga in boosey, then wanna give up the pussy
I tell a bitch in a minute check game hoe I'm po
And I ain't got no motherfuckin' cash flow
Never would furnish a hoe, ride her around in some limo's
And buy her things that contempo
Fuck that, that ain't my fortay
That there part of the game, I don't play
Tweek off my tounge rolling up zags getting twisted
The form of speech that I be spittin' is unlisted
I fucks with game unposted Timex Carlos Rossi
I got crew bank but I'm like Ted Deebiassi
I'm not a nothing ass nigga, just down for my riches
I wares big Britches, don't hang around snitches
Serious about my motherfucking capital
Oozy wipping those who take me practical
You know
He a fool with that one
C L I C K in this motherfucka, testing testing one two
E-40 alias Mr Flamboyant, testing testing one two
1992 Magazine street my sahibs, wassup hillside, testing testing
one two
9.Mr. Flamboyant
Lyricist：Stevens Earl, Timothy Gatling, Gene Griffin, Aaron Hall, C
Ridenhour, Edward T Riley, Nile Rodgers, E Sadler, H Shocklee
Yeah, I'm just a hustler on the go
Out here get my propers, don't ya know？
I'm livin' kind of comfortable, large mail and all, yeah
And a jealous motherfucker would love to see me fall
Like that, that
When we sell this load
We'll have twice what we started with
Yeah, it's that old mackin' fast
Old school gangsta style, smokin' dank
Cognac lounge beat, cognac lounge beat
Motherfucker, cognac lounge beat
Mother, motherfucker
Yeah, it's that old mackin' fast
Old school gangsta style, smokin' dank
Cognac lounge beat, Mr. Flamboyant
Motherfucker, Mr. Flamboyant
Yes, motherfucker
As a youngster I never knew Nathan
Just an inobedient child in the neighborhood
You know the one the police was always chasin'
Straight down and dirty for my props
Eleven years old, extramanish, hard-headed sellin' them rocks
I killed an old wack motherfucker, no one ever bigger than me
Prettiest thing I ever seen, a 1979 air fifteen
Clean, fully automatic and the whole killer kit
It's cops be walkin' up and down the street
Folks be pointin' they fingers sayin' 'Partner gotta grip'
Basically what I was doin' was protectin' my people
My million dollar spots, it was my duty
Got paid to guard the whole motherfuckin' block
Try to catch me if you can, now that I'm a grown man
The mail I got stashed away, people will never know
Mr. Flamboyant
I came in here on business
I, I, I came in here on business
It could work out pretty good
It could work out pretty good
Yeah, pertainin' to this bein' a dog ass world and all
A brother need some kind of occupation to make his mail stand
tall
Whether it's slangin' em' or whatever ya do, man
Just make sure you true to the game
Still in the game everything pretty much the same
Tryin' to reach a certain goal but I gotta dish that during
metro
Alcohol and tobacco and Bureau, Feds and the DEA
Just to run up on me when I'm off that there grandma, yay
Well, what if they block and slap yo ass in the truck？
Partner, if this was a fifth all of us would be drunk
Don't even like rockin' bleach, trippin' on petty crunk shit
like that
What did you say brother？ He might be talkin' bout how it's to
the back
Me and my pussy was comin' around the corner on these shoes
I mean wheels, yeah in this 76 Cutlass Oldsmobile
Turnin' 360's like he was an Alaskan mobile
Sittin' on gold ones hot flamin' didn't really know the deal
I say is 'What's the fuck wrong with you, you crazy ass
motherfucker'
On the back seat tried to mean mug me and turn me like I was a
sucker
So slow ya lil' ass down on this side of town
Before you find yourself either melted or even beat down
Like that and that's on the goose my brother
Because now days a dollar comes harder than a motherfucker
So if you out in that world don't get caught or be slippin'
'Cause today's society ain't trippin'
Ah, hay, Ah, hay, Ah, hay
Yeah
There's a fortune in this business
There's a, there's a fortune in this business
Mr. Flamboyant yeah, that just might be yo name
The center of attention, money, fame
Fuckin' with just rain or crazed insane
Leader of the squad, much younger than gangs
See he rolls the whole unit in a big simple pipe
Foams stirs let it settle and then make it light
Lookin' like rats, real swing when his bottles mail
Spark off a kill, five hundred grams
Pertainin' to the triple beam scale
Solid as a rock, white, white, white A-1 peep pistol plan
Nothin' with scandalous ass cakin' were baking soda
Whether you know it or not ,here's a dog scale
You gotta watch ya back or playa will
Way to many brothers get took for large sums but me
You can't be frail and don't be light with ya narrow ass
Gain some weight, drink beer by the case, it's not too late
Become a savage, get smoked once what ya want to establish
One hitter quitters, the ho get down, run up on me now
Ooh E why you come at em' like that man
You know they can't understand that shit
When you doin' about a buck fifty man
But now put that shit goin' perspective for em' though
Man, check this out my side hog
Due to the fact that I am at liberty
To release such valuable information towards the public
Ya know what I'm sayin'
Every one of my last side hogs been hollerin' at me
Demandin' that I define the definition of Mr. Flamboyant
Pertainin' to me havin' inherited
The gift to spit so I had to like let loose
Like that, well ya know the shit is good listenin', man
But now I want you to go back
To the tune you was doin' earlier in that song
You know that lil' tune ya was doin'
Oh, you mean this here
Yeah, I'm just a hustler on the go
Out here get my propers don't ya know
I'm livin' kind of comfortable, large mail and all yeah
And a lot of jealous fellows would love to see me fall
Like that, that
In Vallejo, California, Mr. Flamboyant
In Oakland, Mr. Flamboyant
South Central, San Francisco Flamboyant, Frisco
North Richmond, Flamboyant
East Palliato, Sacramento
Stockton, Pittsburgh, Reno
Seattle, Washington L.A.
Bear with me if I slither I'm kind of twisted off Tanqueray
Never mind that to the East Coast we go
Chi-Town, Chicago the land of the snow
NYC New York, The Big Apple
Every town is down, folks be comin' up short
Detroit, Michigan and Philly
Boise, Idaho now Billings
Homeside State, D.C.
Flamboyance don't care what it be costin' in Boston
All around the city of Atlanta, Georgia
The 2 Live State, Miami, Florida
Ya don't wanna mess with Texas
Buffalo, Memphis or Kansas
Boyance can be found in Alabama
New Orleans, Louisiana
I just got a page from The Click
Dank tight, I gotta get
Yeah hustler, yeah hustler
Yeah hustler, yeah hustler
Yeah hustler, yeah hustler
Yeah hustler, hustler
Hustler, hustler, yeah hustler
Hustler, hustler, hustler
10.Life
Lyricist：Kevin Davis, Will Jennings, Brandt Jones, Joseph Leslie
Sample, Danell L. Stevens, Dulon Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens,
Marvin Whitemon
It's the first of the month and my beeper is blowing
I can't stop 'cause my cash is flowing
I'm baggin' 'em up bustin' 'em down quickly
'Cause I got five brothers waitin' on me at Thrifty's
I'm in the other bucket on the late night pursuit
With two kis and and forty ounce of brew
I ain't trippin' 'cause my tags are legit
Ah shit, now them tats is on my tip
So I drops my brew, what the fuck am I to do
Pass the street to shake that fool
So I smashed on my pedal and rolled down Golden Gate
And threw these motherfuckin' kis in the lake
Guess who comes through, it's a fool
I gat tapped that ass, red dog, and boo
We kicks it on the hill everyday
Slangin' rocks with Glocks now we gots to get paid
The street life's how I'm livin' and the po-po tryin' to get me
But they can't catch up to a motherfuckin' Philly
That's how I'm livin' in the day
But when it comes night I packs a forty and an AK
Waitin' for some punk to jump so I can start to pop
And put some motherfuckin' holes in his drop
The watch his ass grasp, then I laugh
He shouldn't have last so I taxed his punk ass
A young brother in the game for my fame and glory
I'm really down for my pops and the hardcore stories
Mandatory is my money, ya best believe
Because I'm rollin' through ya town with gold tone D's
Lookin' clean with my mug on mean
But in the ghetto it ain't nothin' but dope fiends
I pull up on the turf not thinkin' of gettin' burnt
With a nine in the trunk it ain't gon' be no funk
Serious about my mail, don't give a fuck about a jail cell
'Cause I post bail and all hell breaks loose
'Cause I got juice, though it seems to me
But in reality the other man is out to get me
Forever on the run, that shit ain't funny
And I ain't never heard of no extra money
The ninety-eight cents, no food for less
I send a dope fiend to steal my Guess
The ghettos of a way where the players star
Where white men won't, where white kids won't
They say it ain't cool and it's bad for they health
And if ya hit magazine, break ya self
'Cause that's the rules man and don't ask why
Either you slang, gang bang, or die
My only concern is to strive
Fucked up around in the street life
The reason I ain't do eighteen yet, check
Is because I got people praying for me, bet
I pays my ties even though the money's filthy
Don't wanna go to church because I feel guilty
The way of the street life is really quite scary
Thinkin' tomorrow man I might get married
So when I leave my pad, I grab mt Glock
And my bulletproof vest and my ski mask dock
On the gooch pal, I won't be caught out of bounds
Can't let these fools stop my life
So I strive, I might be about one eight
But in the mind I more like twenty eight
I see the po-po poppin', the brothers droppin'
Niggaz plottin' and children starvin'
All this shit in my face
I gotta get up out of this place
The middle of V ain't enough see
A nigga feel like I gotta sell D
I share a room with six little brothers
Three to a bed fightin' over covers
The crack of dawn, I read the paper
A Jewish old lady said a nigga raped her
The finger always points at the black man
But not the whites, Filipinos, or Mexicans
11.Hot Ones Echo Thru The Ghetto
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, Tenina
Stevens, Marvin Whitemon
C C L I C K C K, shit don't S-M-O-B
Smob shit, check it
V-Town in this bitch
Studio Ton, I m in some deep shit
Got some niggaz from another click
On that ass tryin' to run me off the fuckin' cliff
What should I do, where should I go, how could I fake 'em？
Bust a bitch on that ass and try to shake 'em, bake 'em
Call up cousin B on the phone
All 'cuz I be in a little bit of trouble
A fruithead out here tryin'
To turn your kinfolk into a vegetable
But I m hexa-smart smebbin' high performance Dodge
They in a Buick Skylark
Meet me at the fo niggaz
Got the dough sit real low
I m on the roof with the fo fo
Drive slow
What they ridin', I'm aiming for they engine block
And when they stop
I m closin' down on they shop
Suga, baby, they done fucked up
Won't you wait in the cut
While I bust and buck on these nuts
Fuck mercy on a nigga tryin' to take mine
Mobb shit with the click'll happen every time
Heard some shots
Fireworks fully auto chops
Sound like they come from
Around my corner near my knot spot
Must be folks they done fucked around and went to war
I know the sound, that's my nigga B's, fo, fo
On the scene they say a nigga got peeled back
A Skylark wrapped around my neighbor s Cadillac
A pretty sight but a nigga can't say that though
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Through the getto, Bitch)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(No, gat too black sent hot ones to the back)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Ridin' shotgun lettin' loose hot ones)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(But if hollow points is fired niggaz better duck)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Hollow point hot ones dipped in garlic)
I m in the underbucket
Blastin' in the cut
It's the glock goin' buck, buck, buck
I'm like damn whats up
I had that glock that fit the script
Some of that high powered shit
'Cuz all along I was smoking out them tricks
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto lit
This way that-a way I split them dope fiend's wigs
They had me fucked up
Phing on my click
We pound the frowns on those punk ass bitches
See your nigga be's a ridah
Hops inside 7-4 Malibu with the do dirt crew
What they wanna do
I ain't shootin' for the stars, cars or homes
I'm from the town leaving bodies face down
I m tryin' to stay real, 'cuz niggaz they will
Put you in the cross, fuck around have you halled off
I got moss with the these fools in a major way
Down and dirty to my death day
Gotta watch them riff raffs
Hittin' on you when you piss-ass niggaz
Wanna slap my kizz-ass
Might as well have pussy ass niggaz
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto bullets ricochet
Bush comin' sheriff better duck that ass down in the bathtub
Dope track late night should be poppin', bein' it s off the hook
See, if they stay fienden foamin' at the mouth better feed them
rook
Niggaz better be careful just
Like jell-o shit be goin' through metal
Sheetrock and stucco hot ones
Echo through the ghetto
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(No, gat too black, sent hot ones to the back)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Ridin' shotgun, lettin' loose hot ones)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(But if hollow points is fired niggaz better duck)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Hollow point hot ones dipped in garlic)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(Where they echo at where they echo at nigga？)
Hot ones echo thru the ghetto
(B-Legit, you up in this bitch with me nigga)
(Fa sho boy)
(C L I C K while)
Shit is funky
Better keep a trey-eight, quit the bullshit
Better be bullet-proofed out
Better sleep on the floor if you wanna survive
Better know about those hot ones
I said you better know about those hot ones
You better know about those hot ones
'Cuz ain't no names when they fly
12.World Went Crazy
Lyricist：Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin Whitemon
When I said it once
(When I said it once)
I said it all
(I said it all)
Watch
(Watch)
Pray
(Pray)
And live Holy
(And live Holy)
Amen
(Amen)
Base rocks nigga
I remember, when the world went crazy back in 1985
I remember, when rock cocaine used to be rich man kind of high
Till one day in my neighborhood, motherfuckers started havin'
fetti
They was hangin' on the corner yellin', 'Base rocks nigga'
Bumpin' too short blowjob Betty
Eleven, fifteen, sixty-seven nigga learn about it
A nine pound breach baby, future Al Capone
Hit the cradle with a big ass naple, young beginner
I tend to be well, country club cross child care center
First grade elementary, mama Vista walkin' the home trail
Bobby leavin' after school, snotty nose
Fist fightin' in the battlefield
Thumps, bought some matches books
Live down the street from coochie dippin' drive
With the girls and guys
I prepared for the worse, moms and pops divorced
Time to switch the scene, smob to magazine
Government grilled cheese single-parent inner-city shit
Only way to get yours
Is to get out there and pull some sort of illegal shit
Way before the distribution of the coca plant
Niggas was pushin' grass
Residue from the hip, concentrated hash
My folks from the hood helped raise me
Can you remember when the world went crazy
I remember, when the world went crazy back in 1985
I remember, when rock cocaine used to be rich man kind of high
Till one day in my neighborhood, motherfuckers started havin'
fetti
They was hangin' on the corner yellin', 'Base rocks nigga'
Bumpin' too short blowjob Betty
Now it's 1984
And I haven't quite made my way up to a unit yet
My sinister game was boomin
But I haven't quite made my way up to a unit yet
Standin' in front of my next door neighbor's house
I made my own set, money was comin' to me
Turf fired up, base rock boomer
Only nigga in the town, besides cokin' sidin' in the Cougar
LL had the bumble and so did Bobby Jenkins
Everybody in Viejo, yo ass was on grimmies
Smash through Foley Park with tremendo
Claimin' hella fame and the dope fiend window
To a nickel and dime ass nigga
To a top hat ballin' big rigga, bitch
I remember, when the world went crazy back in 1985
I remember, when rock cocaine used to be rich man kind of high
Till one day in my neighborhood, motherfuckers started havin'
fetti
They was hangin' on the corner yellin', 'Base rocks nigga'
Bumpin' too short blowjob Betty
Livin' it up to the fullest, never thinkin' about givin' it up
Maybe it will maybe it won't be foolish
To get out of dodge and drove to Grambling College
Me and that nigga B-Legit
On some ol' D-Shot I'm home sick
Ripped back on tron, garglin' rocks and rhymes
From turf to turf, when it goes from worse to worst
Ain't no fuckin' mirst gotta go for what it's worth
Young I've with Yap and cousin Cavio
On the two-four twist like this, Suga, E-40, D-Shot, Legit
Who never had no ideal that we would become The Click
Shot the game to the left, got it up to par
Now that's how the fuck you become a rap star
I remember, when the world went crazy back in 1985
I remember, when rock cocaine used to be rich man kind of high
Till one day in my neighborhood, motherfuckers started havin'
fetti
They was hangin' on the corner yellin', 'Base rocks nigga'
Bumpin' too short blowjob Betty
I remember, when the world went crazy back in 1985
I remember, when rock cocaine used to be rich man kind of high
Till one day in my neighborhood, motherfuckers started havin'
fetti
They was hangin' on the corner yellin', 'Base rocks nigga'
Bumpin' too short blowjob Betty
C-L-I-C-K in this motherfucker, it's 40 out on a solo shot
Smab, smab, smab, swirvin' bitch
Base rocks, base rocks nigga
Base rocks, base rocks nigga
Base rocks, base rocks nigga
...
13.Out My Body
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Mike Mosley, Earl Thomas Stevens
Tennessee tighty, I went out my body
Had a little too much to drink Almighty
God can you show me some leeway
I'm seein' two's on the mutha fuckin' fr, a freeway
I comin' out the gate crooked and I'm loosey
Got the tech and my deck and some mob music
Hit the strip tryin' to catch me a twenty doosey
Drinkin' bombay mixin' it with orange juice
'Twas the night before my rad had to turn himself in
One or less more violation and he's lookin' at ten
So we gon' live it up and act bad balls
And party til' the mutha fuckin' wheels fall off
Hope those wheels ain't made of stone
Five in the mornin' and I still ain't home
Man, I'm tore like never before
On the couch assed out with my eyes on low
Tonight we gon' smoke
Burrito size Taylors served with Vegas
Like to drink beer with mashed potatoes
Steak and chicken, eggs and grits
Clicked out shit makes platinum hits
I don't really know why niggas made me go way out
My body way out, my body
I don't really care if the popoes stop and stare
I'm way out, my body way out, my body
A'ight B
I heard the yak went quack, zob schilacked
Multi-orgasms and the bitch collapsed
From the back I bash, all night I last
When I grab that ass long dick ya daz
A ruh uh ruh uh ran up on her, from Tacoma
Man, that bitch had miles on her
Fuckin' wit' a pimp, bitch, you ain't heard
You can start me in the mornin' with a bottle of 'birds
Lick on the hip and watch the dickhead rise
Up under your legs, in between your thighs
Long range pimpin', LRPs
No high jeans no ticks and fleas
Wake me in the mornin' 'cuz at night I snores
Alcohol comin' all out my pores
Four-door drivin' and I'm fast asleep
Bitch next to me in the passenger seat
I don't really know why niggas made me go way out
My body way out, my body
I don't really care if the popoes stop and stare
I'm way out, my body way out, my body
Certified top hat, one of the truest
Timin' like my niggas up in east St. Louis
Jack be Daniels, Jack be swift
My niggas in the H-Town smoke the spliffs
Juice and Vodka, the tower of power
A plate of hot wings and some whiskey sour
I don't stop perkin' keeps in goin'
A full house in my dank room blow air
Nigga disrespect, don't let it slide
Go get your entourage fool time to ride
I spots red lights and I'm loose and lick
Open bottle and a gat in my glove compartment
Alcohol, tobacco and firearms
But this time man, it's a false alarm
I really wish I took another route
But I'm gone out my body way out
I don't really know why niggas made me go way out
My body way out, my body
I don't really care if the popoes stop and stare
I'm way out, my body way out, my body
14.Get Chopped
Lyricist：Mike Mosley, Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens
Game must be focused upon, game
If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin'
(What you say)
If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin', game
(Then spit it)
A nigga spent his last quadruple of cash
Hopin' that the plane wouldn't crash
Out smarted the task while teachin' they ass
Bouts the other side of the grass
Uh, I spits the truth from the soil untold
See 340 in ya pager, that's the code
Hit me back 'cause you know he's busy off the hook
Plus the hurricane ethyl got him too took
Drug instances, penitentiary chances
Circumstances, gigantic ass live enhancements
Keep on mashin' though, don't quit
Game related, comin' from the fuckin' click
Now that I made the major leagues
Pushin' big KI's
Niggas from my block ain't tryin' to see me
I came up too fast for them punks hoes
Now them fools wants to kick in my door
Bringin' over the change if you think that you can fuck with
this
Bam, pops to the dome bitch
Motherfuckers hate to see a true nigga flamboast
Bringin' in more net than gross
They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped
They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped
They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped
But I'm up on they plot, boom get chopped
Bitch, feelin' evil like Knievel lookin' for a wrench
Gotta a couple screws loose like the Grinch
Problem child ain't got no problem with disposin'
Lose me temper, lose me cool but on the same token
He ain't gon' bust a grip, man that nigga E-40 fakin'
You failized I have ya whole family wear and taken
Paper hatin' haters get put in they place
Crevice achin' baggers get smacked in the face
Niggas from the other side of town be talkin' big shit
Actin' like they wanna fuck with my click
But the shit ain't changed fuck the rap game
Hill side nigga on a mission to proclaim
My motherfuckin' spot in society
South side niggas just jealous, they doubt me
Punk niggas lookin' for a reason
Kick off a rucus to start the funk season
They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped
They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped
They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped
But I'm up on they plot, boom get chopped
I fucks with ya, ya bitch
Nigga get rich, fool don't you know this the click
Be the hundred SL's what a nigga straight smash
One hundred thousand in cash
Follow the leader, trip on how this thing gets deeper
The more I teach 'em the dumber I get
Dizzy-izzy, hey shot these tardy niggas kill me
But what they don't know is, I fly cerebral cortex like a
frisbee
Fuck 'em and feed 'em, pistol whip they ass and bleed 'em
Stuck 'em and read 'em, find out where they snooze and sleep 'em
You pearl tongues need to stop workin' for the cops
Rot heads don't get no props, beotch
15.Rock Up My Birdie
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, Danell L. Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin
Whitemon
Alright, alright
I'm tight, I'm tight
All day, all day
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If the funk jump then my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Don't let that shit jump, my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If that shit jump then my stapler will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Don't let that shit jump, my pistol will pop
Straight up on some swirve, like pump I got my shit tight
Mobbin' in the Chevy, four deep after midnight
And just because I'm rappin', nigga, ain't shit changed
I'm still slangin', thangs nigga, deep in this game
My homies like to fork, them fools like to ride
My homie got the Tommy out the passenger side
About to let em' fly cause it's another season
And niggas let them ho punk bitches be the reason
Niggas on the roof, bulletproofs and straps
Posted on the corner, walkie-talkies and booby traps
Ready for whatever, we can get it on
In any type of weather, ya know we fuck them domes
Them choppers will chop, niggas slippin' down ya block
Funkin' out her hand, you wouldn't understand
Half money half heart, ain't nowhere to hide
Put yo shit in park, you know these fools will ride
Suicidal if it's vital on these streets of mine
And niggas pack them gats bustin' thirty-two times
Business is fine if ya fuckin' with me
On the spot where a niggas slangs his D
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If the funk jump then my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Don't let that shit jump, my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If that shit jump then my stapler will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
And if that shit jump
Testin' one, two a nigga sold a few of those ki's
Broke em' down to boulders, stacked a few of those G's
My bitch was the check, my set was the year
A nigga had hills, meals
And about eleven thousand dollars worth of bills
I was posted at the spot smokin' doja
Just put the rumble in my 68 Nova
But what about me
Fool you can't get with it
But what about me
Fool my crew is sick wid it
Boom-shaka-laka, it's the big blocker
Three ninety six, I get rubber and fit punk bitch
And I'm a bomb smokin' zipper holdin' pistol packin'
In my lap cause it's G's that a niggas stackin'
Mackin' is my game, Legit is my name
And if ya ain't careful, ho, ya pockets are drained so
What else ya wanna know about this playa
Dope rhyme sayer, my mail weigh longer than theirs
That shit is gettin' funky and them fools wanna bust caps
But motherfucker ain't no money in that
You need to lose that strap and go from the shoulders
â~Cause shit gon' get funky with this soldier
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If the funk jump then my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Don't let that shit jump or my Reuger will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If that shit jump then my stapler might pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Please don't let it funk
First I flipped the Vette, then came the Lex
I swept up thirty thangs to get the whip got me blessed
Eighteen and older, money gets me over
Sixteen years old with two straps on my shoulder
A real Hillside hog, leavin' em' fucked in the fog
Nigga you can't fade me I'm ya top notch dog
How can ya figure that D-Shot will sliver
Nigga run up on me then I gots to split ya
Split ya, no shit and no white for sale
Man I'ma rob that nigga, let the buzzer be the bell
â~Cause I ain't fixin' to suck up to none
Punk now that not even in my plan
Dry as the fuck and I'm the only one left in the yo-yo
Seven houses down, cross street dashboard, broken down Pinto
Black screens, high school prom queens
Smoked out, shriveled up as dope fiends
Heckyls my, Jekylls me sweatin' me
Just like the task, them motherfuckers had my ass
Won't be able to serve niggas for the one forty
Give me thirty, rock up my birdie
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
And if that shit jump then my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Please don't let it jump, it'll pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If that funk jump then my pistol will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
Please don't let it funk my chop-chop will pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If the funk jump then my brownie might pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
If the funk jump then my, uh, it'll pop
Rock up my birdie on the D-spot
16.Learn About It
Lyricist：Brandt Keith Jones, Mike Mosley, Earl Thomas Stevens
Understand this shit nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit need to know about it
Understand this shit, nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit, nigga know about it
Soak it up, boy, ya know, ya know
Ya know, ya know, ya know
Smebbin' down the street in my 7-0
Bumpin' the beat sittin' on gold tippity toes
Went to the track to buy me some hemp
Some old nigga yells out, '40 you's a pimp'
I said, 'Playboy understand my strategy
Got to know a little somethin' this dope game
Fall off into this catergory'
I'm from that real live shit fuck hannabera
I'm from the eighty four eighty fin era
I like to sake â~em up rattle, baby, got sattle
If the nigga had a sack could I fuck with that
Got to blowin' up her head with the chitter chatter
I'm out the roof of my coupe spittin' game at her
I likes to fuck and get up and get on
I'm eatin' steak on the bone
And steady stuffin' dick in her dome
I'm on the phone in my hot tube
Gettin' my back rubbed on
About to fall deep in the zone
Let a nigga kick back and put ten to the ceiling
Got my face in the pillow 'cuz I'm lovin' the feelin'
Ain't nothin' like nuttin' in her jaw
So damn raw, nipples pokin' out the bra
Man in the town I see
Undertakers, Captain Savers, Cape crusaders, A P.H.er
Plays in the game gettin' ratted on
A ba A bitches in the game gettin' over on
Never tell a bitch all your business
'Cuz one day she might be an eye witness
These are the things you need to know man
This shit I'm spittin', niggas don't understand
Understand this shit nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit need to know about it
Understand this shit, nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit, nigga know about it
Soak it up, boy, ya know, ya know
Ya know, ya know, ya know
Fools want to come up but ain't paid dues
Want to hang around a player lookin' for clues
Well in my younger days I did dirt
Put in work, I used to but ki's from Kirk
And nigga don't think that I wasn't the man
Out there jiggin', doin' all that I can
But now in 95 I done flipped the scrip
Hopin' muthafuckas understand this shit
We used to local till we signed with Jive
40 num num went nation wide
Who would ever thought that Earl, Earl
On the pitchers mound with the curl would be
One of the biggest things to that ever came out the V
Since Michael Copper and confunction barely graduatin'
Hogan High School
Drunken, Hillside representative, sky unlimited, game's
unlimited
Magazine street pioneer Ex D boy ask my cousin Troy
Understand this shit nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit need to know about it
Understand this shit, nigga learn about it
Ay-thing a nigga spit, nigga know about it
Soak it up, boy, ya know, ya know
Ya know, ya know, ya know
Man, 40 would you rain on me man, sprinkle me, man
Hey, would you tie my shoes lace me up or somethin'
Man I need to be sprinkled man Ay
Understand this shit, nigga know about it
Know about it
Kind of like when the drought
About to hit you need to know about it
You gotta done lived this shit to know about it
Teah, check game, a fool got at me the other day, right？
Rit
'Hey, hey B, how y'all niggas be comin'
With that ol' wild shit？', huh？
I say check game playboy, I'm from the 84
Eighty fin era, eighty fin era
Where we done did that shit, know about that shit
Know about that shit, spit that shit
And it don't quit, and it won't quit
And it won't stop, and it don't stop
Fuck a hoe
Fuck a bitch
Fuck that hoe main
17.On a Mission
Lyricist：Earl Thomas Stevens, Marvin Whitemon
E-40 check this out man
I don't know what is it about these, sittin'-uckers？
Thinkin' we some kind of big nusters or somethin'
But now watch me though
I like what you lacin' that real shit down for em man
I got the block sewed up
Three or four million dollar spots
Rocks jumpin' off marijuana and herb
Eleven five hundreds due, dope fiends due off that dog food
Choppin' down keys gettin' all my props
Youngsters on the corner lookin out for cops
They really don't be trippin' on what they can get
'Cause I just take 'em to the mall and buy 'em a fet, huh
Pistol whippin' punks on the boulevard
Wouldn't hesitate to pull ya house card
'Cause I ain't takin' no shorts in the game today
Quick to pop a punk tryin' to short stop
Money hungry hard hitter stingy little numbskull
Penny pinchin' large mail, down for my hustle
Sittin' phat like Chublee, all about my money
Double batch full of scratch, artillery, firearms and gats
I got funk with like seven different crews
'Cause I done jacked, kidnapped and did dirt to those fools
So wrapped up in my money that I don't think nobody can harm me
'Cause I'm a one man army
I get a thrill outta killin' I ain't no peanut
If niggas roll some funk man I bring it to 'em
Ya movin' too fast, out yells my mother
But it went in one ear, and straight out the other
Me and my partna head out on a misson
Program tight tell everybody we went fishin'
Play up the scene, grab my Mini-14
Gold proof vest and a glock seventeen
Old school mobb with a heck of a dense
Surgical gloves, so that they can't trace the prints
I know I'm in a red lookin' at death row
But fuck the five-oh, the po-po's and the metro, I'm on a misson
That's the shit I'm talkin' about right there man
'Cause when a muthafucka tryin' to get his fit-netty on
That's the way shit got ta be handled
'Cause in order to get paid you got to do damage
And take advantage professionally
As a nigga start to plot, I can catch 'em all at once
Start slippin' out of bounds on the other side of town
I'ma get that ass, caught him loose with the pants down
Now I fist the clown down goes my ski-mask
Drivin' real slow, puffin' on indo
My partna E-Duece said, 'Man them niggas think they federal'
E was the driver, daredevil tight
I said, 'Nigga that's the first word you said all night'
Cool, calm, collected but never on the sleep
E parked the car in the middle of the street
I hopped out the vehicle them tricks hit the deck
I started lettin' loose like a Vietnam vet
'Prop-pop-pop', goes my Mini-14
'Pop-pop-pop', said my glock seventeen
Shit was like flyin', in every which way
Rated they ass with some hollow points spray
How long did it last？ About five minutes or so
Nathin' but a bloodbath niggas on a flo'
A few got away, but most had to pay
Those who got away, I'll find out where they stay
'Cause bitches like to lay, and niggas like to screw
It's all about the setup, so look at what I do
Smoked up the block and then vanished without a clue
Switch up the cars and then change it to somethin' new, I'm on a
misson
Yeah man, yeah man, yeah
These fittin'-ools don't understand
Boy it's some muthafuckas schemin' and plittin' out
And thinkin' they gon' get with a muthafucka first, uh-uh
We ain't wit' dat so instead we like snatch up the foam proof
glocks
The ski-mask stocks
Two bitchs so we can like throw they sense of reality off
Catch 'em slippin' and leave 'em trittin' up in man
The folks linger in a threatening situation
I must make the hit before they take retalliation
Straight gangsta shit poppin' off in the war
I'm shootin' everything when I kick in the door
One way to handle if I need a couple of scandalous
Brought that I hook up with them fools and take chances
Ladies and gentlemen, this shit here ain't for play
This the type of shit that happens every other day
My cousin's girlfriends little neice knows the leader
Says, he'll do almost anything if she just let him jeer
Bootsee muthafucka really went for the shit
Baby told Du to bring his whole fuckin' click
Partna was the burgalar and his folks was the vwice
What Du didn't know was he was in for a surprise
Baby brought a friend on the strength of gettin' fetti
Waited for them tricks at the edge water telly
We was in the cut on the under in the closet
Ready to start some shit they was way out the closet
Knock knock knock, I said, 'Ssh, quiet down'
Blam blam blam! was the second time around
I opened up the door, and then I yelled bingo
Slapped in the click and let the muthafucka go
Mission accomplished
18.Hector Da Ho Protector
Lyricist：Brandt Jones, E Stevens, Earl Thomas Stevens, T.m. Stevens,
Marvin Whitemon
Ah is a, ah is a ain't
(A ho protector)
What you gon' do let her take all ya bank
(Break ya self, nigga, break ya self)
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
You gon' just let her just take all yo bank
(Hell naw)
Hey, let me ask you somethin' brown skin, ten
With the back bumpin', tell me baby is you mack huntin'
So about mine the big guy dropped a line
Keep him off yo' mind, I keep him off yo' behind
Mail mind, I got walkin' 'For Sale' signs
High heels, switchin' hips, givin' thrills
I ride drops, settled down by the cops
They respect a Hector, he's a hoe protector
Up, up and away, tryin' to impress that bitch
I said what's that nigga name
(He's a ho protector man)
Talkin' about I stepped on his toes
Want to funk over hoes
(It's pimpin' man)
Nigga I'm worth thirty G's
(It's pimpin' man)
Nigga you bitch chose me
Uh, team full of track stars
Steppin' out of cars and limousines, Capri jeans
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
What you gon' do let her take all ya bank
(Break ya self, nigga, break ya self)
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
You gon' just let her just take all yo bank
(Hell naw)
See I'ma make her think, I'm doin' it real big, real big
Get ya ass in my truck so we can cut
Pop on the digital deck with the surround sound
Her intentions is to break me down
At the age of two to seven I was raised by pimps
All I hung around was nathin' but whores and tricks
What makes you think I'ma give you my cash
If anything bitch, you gon' give up the ass
I'm a high maintenance bitch, I keep my nails done
My hair done black with Donna Mae West
Valet and crustacean, take me on a vacation
Take me to the radio station, love dedication
Fairer go the best, got to put ya in check, set up shop on ya
set
Playas get on they knees, beggin' Suga please
I'm off the heezy that's for sheezy, easy
Hector come ho protect this breezy
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
What you gon' do let her take all ya bank
(Break ya self, nigga, break ya self)
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
You gon' just let her just take all yo bank
(Hell naw)
Uh, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound
Name ringin' known throughout the fuckin' town
Captain Save a Hoe ain't got shit on you
Ain't no tellin' what you Hectors might do
Might buy the ho some clothes, Dolce and Gabbana
Eat out at Benihana's, buy some pearls for her mama
Make that nigga spend his duckets
Have that nigga buy you a promise ring
Vera Wang, and Louis Viton luggage
Boitch, you a G-iotch, to the drill type
A guy friend and ain't even divin' in
Boy won't you spend a rack on lunch and dinner
And never hit her, but basically a babysitter
Feelin' better you will when you find out
The bitch dippin' in and out of ya bank account
Withdraws, breakin' P.I. laws
You never sweat her, Hector the Ho Protector
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
What you gon' do let her take all ya bank
(Break ya self, nigga, break ya self)
Ah is a, ah is a, is you ain't
(A ho protector)
You gon' just let her just take all yo bank
(Hell naw)
19.Actin' Bad
Lyricist：Gardner Kevin Q, Jones Brandt Keith, Stevens Danell, Stevens
Earl T
Touchdown from all angles and what have you
Make like a tampon and soak up this game
While I teach ya 'bout my dictionary book of slang
I used to fuck with the triple, coconut Popsicles
Been tellin' time on the grind but never got caught in the
pickel
My doctor say, I drank too much, cirrhosis
But I'm pussy drunk till my liver bust cause I'm hopeless
Hope I don't miss my target
Hope I don't and tinkle all over the toilet
Money plus game four keys and a glock
A fat ass sack and I ran the block
If it wasn't my brand it wasn't on my corner
The only nigga plugged with the border brush
Got that white bitch, tight shit, right fo' sho'
Hook me with a pot and some soda and watch me flip the snow
Niggas know that when I'm droed that I be gone
And don't know what the fuck page I be on
Back in 86 was a motherfuckin' trip to me
A young hustler actin' bad on the city streets
And never givin' a fuck about nothin'
Who's that man that got jacked, who's that fool on the pavement
Damn whatever it takes to get my grits
Stackin' large mail, tryin' to get my pockets thick
And fuckin' every bitch that I could
But what about those niggas actin' bad in my hood
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh)
Niggas actin' bad
(Actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Niggas actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh, ooh)
I grew up listenin' to Too Short and Freddie B.
It's some niggas out there between Magic Mike and Calvin T.
Kind off U T F O, KRS
Blow Fly and Rudy Ramone and girls with sex
I ball up in my truck lookin' cleaner then cozy
Burnin' mo' rubber than a pussy on fire
See there ya go, 40 flashin' like blue light
Man fuck his ho, that bitch ain't in check
I once heard a ho say pimpin' was dead
But me and that niggas smoked back to the head
We was choppin' up game just between us playas
The nigga tellin' me that he runnin' for Mayor
With his campaign strong, got his money on
Front a brand new Jag when he wrapped his home
Growin' up in motherfuckers doings
Catch me out there bad, actin' foolish
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh)
Niggas actin' bad
(Actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Niggas actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh, ooh)
Look, actin' bad unorthodox behavement
Celebratin' breakin' bottles on the pavement
Put some Barbarians on ya squad that don't be joshin'
Flip a 1970 Cut and spoil it rotten
Every doobie roll thick to the Cali convention
Handin' out cassettes all we want is distributin'
Forced to sell tapes out the trunk of our vehicles
Thirty day assignments to sheet and leopolds
Shows out of state on some concert dates
Plus ice skating on some chrome 1-8s
Motel plans 'cause the game was hittin'
Seventeen G's 'cause the game was spittin'
Hangin' in the halls in my draws and shit
Groupie ass bitch on my balls and dick
They make me sick with they broke ass
Now who y'all know that need that dope fast
Now who's got my back
Now that I'm fuckin' with keys, hey yeah, I gots to have my
strap
Too many fools want to take my place
But I'm a sharp ass nigga and I'ma damn sho' stake my bank
I flips and flops, buster ass niggas drop
Pop the glock, drop my top, it don't stop
Fuck these po-pos they always try to question me
'Cause actin' bad is where a young nigga be
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh)
Niggas actin' bad
(Actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Niggas actin' bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Real bad)
Niggas actin' bad
(Ooh, ooh)
20.If I Took Your Boyfriend
Lyricist：Gilmour Anthony Douglas, Prince, Stevens Earl T
Playa hatresses, mad at the world
Mad â~cause you just got rid of an ancient S-Curl
I'm on a mission so why test me
â~Cause everywhere you be they talkin' about Suga-T
Top-notch, super bad
All about her paper, all about her scratch
Back in the day you wasn't trippin' when I was broke
You might as well face I ain't no joke
What if I took ya boyfriend, how would you react
I'll do it just because I know you talk behind my back
I'll do ya bad, make ya mad
Take him to the pad and substitute where you lack at
Maybe it's the sneak in me, that could bring out the freak in me
Make you retrospect a G
Now should I be a snakedafied, get wined and dined
Or peep at him from the corner of my eye
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
Would ya wanna kill me or would ya wanna feel me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
What could ya do If I took your boyfriend
I bet they thought this chick was gonna fall, naw
Never would of thought I stood tall through this all
World wide tryin' to back ya man up off of me
And ya wanna put a bad name for me out on the streets
Maybe I should go ahead and page him, here I be
So he can spend yo latest check on me
Then after that he would have to go
And guess what, you would never know
Better back up off before I slang this whip up on ya
Have ya not normal hangin' by my man
Hold up, wait a minute maybe I should stop bullshittin'
Get down and dirty about my business, no sippin'
I thought chu' knew, I be down for what I do
See I can go solo in a minute damn a crew
I can be a bitch or I can keep livin'
So playa back up off me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
Would ya wanna kill me or would ya wanna feel me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
What could ya do If I took your boyfriend
Now on a scandalous tip, I can pop and scam and spit
I'm takin' thugs out the game for reality checkin'
I'm steady, ready I ain't down for the petty
They runnin' around town sayin' Suga's way fetti
Candle lights and toasts gettin' licked at the spot
Everybody knows Suga-T ain't right
Bend behind a red carpet over rug
Bests to retrospect, I got straight love
You can rub-a-dub me down in the hot tub
Might mess around and even fall in love
See it don't matter because my pockets gettin' fatter
Now see that some real shit for this chatter
You see it ain't no future hatin' on me
â~Cause he'll be forced to feel me
And if he don't hear me on the radio
Then he'll see me on the video screen and he'll love me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
Would ya wanna kill me or would ya wanna feel me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
What could ya do If I took your boyfriend
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
Would ya wanna kill me or would ya wanna feel me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
What could ya do If I took your boyfriend
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
Would ya wanna kill me or would ya wanna feel me
If I took your boyfriend what would you do
What could ya do If I took your boyfriend
â¦
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