Lyrics:
Nikes, by the caseload
But still good to fuck with a Becky like John Stamos
Taught to know that the rule of thumb was innuendos
And to slay the box
slippin', got it tucked right by my belly
Ask around the city since a lil' one I been steppin'
I stay out people business 'cause that shit be gettin' messy
There were forty little houses
In a place
They called High River
And everyone knew Tim
Since the day he was born
He was a little different
Some
you surrounded
My deadest nigga Ha forty drinkin latino (se moreno!)
Who back down cops, escape like Larry Davis, couldn't live off minimum
machines.
Until once again your free,
You're free.
It's gone, it's gone
Repeat Chorus.
Questions in her head,
As the forties pass her by
school out
First of all, for the record, Scarface jail cats
Cultured by stretch it but name it, rather socialize
Eyes never lies, these guys tell me
since I've been in it but peeped from side lines
Most of ya'll get it fucked up forgetting the guidelines
When I came we had a code that we followed where
You're not worth the 40 hours or the check
Jeez
I'm not articulate, I'm awesome
Been runnin' circles around your intellect since I arrived
But I'm
rollin like a bicycle
Fresh like a virgn calculates like a math wiz
You think you're bad? I'ma show you what bad is
Microphone magician, it's the end when
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
a billion bars of dissin
for any rappers dead or livin that we've ever heard since we was children
My brain got built-in Pentium chips, my thoughts
of the casino
We know she tear that ass for Suga Buga
Too gangsta too pimpin'
Since the bitch real hookers are from
INGLEWOOD!
So stash the green Coupe
By
Cause if not Milli's the Forty Cal's a ring on 'em
I know your kind gettin by leave the city quick
Niggaz bleed just like us I'm on that Biggie shit
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'n' Mama said it was
took a while
And that 40 bring pain when the lights out
Put it out beat it like my step child
Im so high I'm out my mind thats what these drugs will do
percent, pure uncut
Detonate, Little Kuwait, I'm blowin shit up
Go ahead, make your mistake, and throw that punch
I'ma pull this forty-four Mag and make you
neighborhood, a/k/a the Asphalt Killing Fields
I can't stay
I just can't stay away
Now as I cruise by the park, niggas hit me up
And since I'm true to mine,
on the slow money shit
Get different when there's no money new behavior like woah buddy
Got to get it by any means erks the very fiber of your being figure
getaway but first I go to sit and wait
Lurking in the shadows on mission to do my hit and shake
Patience always pays so I'm stiffer than a statue
By no
in a cookie jar like
Knuckle deep in a fat bag
I'm pullin' the 4-0
Causin' that temper to explode and
The gat to unload
On a motherfucker, point blank,
Feel like Gary Payton
Used to sleep on the floor
Ain't even have a blanket since he a demon
Bro gon' send his ass to Satan
Punches so fire
Hit the store
like they just packed a bench
Since timetables I rhyme greater, hater, uh
Triple double no assists
On this shit I just turn into my player, player
Uh,
man raps
Cause it won't' be mine i'm trynna tell you
I been doing this since the staircases
40's in the cold, leavin' em with stale faces
No tats, bare
That's how he liked it though
As far as you could throw
I don't know
I took what I could get since long ago
That's just the way it goes
As far as I know
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