Lyrics:
raised by the plot, product of the hater
The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade
I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun
Married murder one,
shoot or get shot
I'm raised by the plot, product of the hater
The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade
I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still
to pop up my collar 'fore I stunt
Now I pop it when I want
Otto Rocket when I'm skrt'n
(Please listen carefully)
Christ died for my sins and crushed
a row
'cause I spent 20 on my tires
30 to be icy
But me bein fly dats priceless
And I gave 40 to my side chick
50 to the wifey
But me bein fly dats
pops, maybe he could tell ya better boy
Patient in the afterlife I'll waste ya in the after life
Even after my life haters be after my life
Cause I'ma
Bitch I pop xans by the fistful
Turn Lil Yorkie to a pitbull
Bitch I pop xans by the fistful
Turn Lil Yorkie to a pitbull
Hol up hol up hol up hol
point'll trash you, you better get you another gun
Fresh out the box with it
Pop fly ya ass'll get mopped with it
I pop outta something that's dark tinted
Son, you might be a cobra but I'm a mongoose
Grab you by ya collar never let ya neck loose
I avoid fake crews like I avoid the drama
And if ya become
Ayo cutters of the pie throw your
Summers in the sky
Collar-pop Jolly Roger die motherfucker die
Apache on a ship shape, in Bristol fashion
Snuck
each and every evening
For one epiphany grippin' zz's getting lost
In Herbies e-spliffianies
The E keep me in harmony
The P got me complacent B
Tossin'
on that err, I'm on that E
Fast pace, my motion
Call on the dead, then he deceased, uh
Play wit' the potion
Forty-one on me, my wrist lookin' freeze
got to move smarter ya I got to grind harder
Everyone got watches and everyone got chains
I was never the father so I'm popping my collar
Big body size
haters I don't give a fuck
Ridin' round with that forty and that nina with the thirty
Yeah
I'm just tryna get my money up
Out here riding dirty tell
a problem then lil nigga speak up
I pop out with my woedy with 40's and shorties you know for a fact they get freaked up
Got ya bitch at the crib she be turnt
kicked
Only thirteen and already pregnant
I grabbed the forty out the bag and took a swig
Cause I was getting overwhelmed by bebe kids
They were runnin
[Krayzie]
Yeah, Bone Enterpri$e in tha muthafuckin house, nigga!
Yo, y'all muthafucka's that didn't think we was comin' out
Check this shit out: I
* (E-40 talking)
It's just like moonshine,have you on yo face
I mean you be slutterin and what not,next thing you know
You don't know how you got
a collar
Pop a pill then chill, no pill, no Cosby
Not a raper or a taker, bonafide heartbreaker
Hit her once, hit her twice, then tell her see ya later
Knows that I can giddy go
When it's time to get on the M-I-C-R-O-P-H-O-N-E
It's me the hustler 40
With them raggedy seperaters as if it was funky
Porsche Gambala
No bitches, just women on my collar
S-E-A-T-O-W-N
Yo' nigga is back again
Huh, who you callin sellout fool?
I was puttin caps in clowns when
you catchin this forty
Shot by a white boi on ya bitchuary
Bitch talkin shi in the past I Pop jit in his ass now he got metal dingleberrys
I bet
it's money, bout them dollas
Jack your stacks and pop your collars
Ooooh, fa shiggedel
So slick, so sly, so slal
Ghost pick, those thighs, those
Who'd be the richest?
Who'll build the fences?
White collar mistress, man yall dont get it
Project housing, profit houses
Ask Donald Trump, he know about
wasn't allowed in
I took a high-hat, a snare, and a kick drum
A bass, a G-note, turned it into hit songs
Now every we make forty G's, nigga please,
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