Blowin' Hot Air

The Click

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The Click

The Click is a hip hop group consisting of 4 members from Vallejo, California. The groups members are E-40 (Earl Stevens), his cousin B-Legit (Brandt Jones), his brother D-Shot (Danell Stevens), and his sister Suga-T (Tanina Stevens). Together the group has released three studio albums. more »


Year:
2001
5:30
103 
#2

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[* Beep *]
[Answering Machine]
Good evening, at the tone
Pacific Standard Time will be 7:07
[The Click talking]
Ya know how us bosses step up, know what I mean
Ya do what we do and do what we do to get paid
We get paid, some quintessential, real ass niggas
Stack chips and make some money up
Ya know, I said are-realize the game
Stack chips and make some money up
I said are-realize the game
Stack chips and make some motherfuckin' money man
I s-said realize the game, mob hit nigga
Stack chips and make some motherfuckin' bank
I s-said realize the game
[E-40]
Look here, abominable, honorable
Countable, astronomical but monumental
I used sell and serve pops up out my auntie's Pinto
Still keepin' it ghetto, barbecuin' in the front yard
Slappin' bones, ton of niggas perkin'
Recitin' lyrics from my songs
Ain't nobody hurtin' we all workin'
Tryin' to have loot, in the studio
With hangovers tryin' to re-coop
I get down, ballin' like Kobe Bryant
You niggas is lousy, small things to a giant
How you gonna be swappin' up my style
And goin' off by a crack in my units
I'ma stick to the shit that made The Click
The super kind, I love to spit
That nigga 40 vicious, he got speech I heard him
Took his music out of the streets
Policy out on a small fee
Now to be clear, without equal
Both young and new MCs out for dinner
Crackin' ho ass niggas off something gravy
Especially when I get to doin' it by the way, hey
So that nigga told me, that's square
But why ya want to get in on that sucker sauce be	
I didn't ask you to get on this album
Cause he knew I'd f*ck him off
[Hook]
Click shit makes the motherfuckin' money
I s-said realize the game (I said ya blowin' hot air)
Click shit makes the motherfuckin' money
I s-said realize the game (I said ya blowin' hot air)
Click shit makes the motherfuckin' money
I s-said realize the game (I said ya blowin' hot air)
Click shit makes the motherfuckin' money
I s-said realize the game (I said ya blowin' hot air)
[D Shot]
I couldn't hold myself back my niggas
I'm no longer in the background niggas
It's 2000 and I'm shittin' on niggas
I'm callin' shots to the streets my nigga
So niggas, they run and hide under bosses
No longer in California cause it's too many crosses
You fucked around and got a tip from a mad bitch
Cause you was next on the motherfuckin' hit list
You got ya ghetto pass revoked cause you ain't real
If you didn't get to steppin' you was gettin' killed
Rapper, slash street hustler
They both the same, a buster is a buster
Ain't got no chance to revive yourself
Get that buster out ya soul and ask God for help
Nigga, times is a wastin'
What the f*ck ya gon' do, ain't nobody got no patience
[B-Legit]
Nigga this ain't no fun, dat nigga (Nigga)
Nigga this'll have yo hat tacked nigga (Nigga)
Lay ya head flat dat nigga (Nigga)
Smashin' up the wrong way nigga (Nigga)
Niggas side to side, shoulder shoulder
Ain't never stepped foot outside without my bulldozer
Hops off in the Nova, we keeps it cheesy and real greasy
Like Church's with game for you to purchase
Keep bitch niggas nervous
Nigga this Click shit, don't get it misconscrued
It's nothin' to catch yo bitch ass on a move
We don't lose, nigga we like them V's we batter and bruise
And leave ya ass leakin' sloppy for the ten o'clock news
[Hook]
[D Shot]
I'm off that Click shit, sick shit
Hog shit, mob shit
F*ck with my family you get yo jaw split
Off the 2-11 still reserved, I'm on one
Strike a inner in a T-Bird, I blow one
We on that nigga shit, I can't believe it
Ya so damn niggarish, best believe it
A got some bad come holler at me
Ya hope to take the THC, hit ya for the half P
[B-Legit]
I'm slippery, see it's trickery to get with me
Claimin' victory, leavin' niggas hickory
Party history, things remain a mystery
Got the quick of me, niggas ain't shit to me
Swiftly ain't no ands buts or ifs with me
I'm sickery, state pen stickery
Ice pickerly, main vein literally
It's part of me, I'm hard on the arteries
Got the arch with me, f*ck a nigga parking E
Cross this T, then send him out to sea
Where the bodies be deep and titanicaly
Franticaly, some niggas panicky
I'm the sample G, I handle things savagely
Above average things, especially for the cabbage tree
Niggas mad at me and really ain't around me
For your anatomy it's fully automatically
[E-40 talking]
And I said to myself,
Ya know what pimpin'
Dude a lot of these niggas is tardy and they need a tutor
Due to the fact that a lot of these niggas
Wasn't brought up under the umbrella
Ya know, and a lot of these triple OG ass niggas
They ain't really been passin' the game down
Like we was laced and groomed on
Ya know what I mean back in the early 80s
Ya know what I mean, to these young niggas man
I mean I analyze this shit nigga
I mean it is small things to a giant
The way I do these damn things man
I mean a lot of these niggas, hey you know what
I've been caught between a rock and a political hard place
On how to explain the game to these squares man
I mean these niggas is just a square
As my motherfuckin' back pockets man
I'm off this Colo Vasey, this is Click shit all day
On you bitch ass niggas
[Hook]

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Written by: EARL T. STEVENS, DANELL STEVENS, TENINA STEVENS, DULON STEVENS, KEVIN DAVIS, MARVIN WHITEMON, RICARDO THOMAS, BILL HOUSEMAN, BRANDT JONES

Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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