Lyrics:
bottle pill bottle ohh
Rollin on E neva run out of fuel
Drip on me make all deez bitches drool
Fuck wit Ye den u gotta be a fool
Pill bottle pill bottle
E-40]
It be her friends nigga that's who
It be your bitch friends nigga they be..
Nigga they be all up in your mix nigga
I don't even, ay nigga
what I'm sayin. I don't fool wit the Goodie Mob's,
and I especially don't fool wit them E-40's.)
Nigga what the fuck they GOOD fo? Nigga let's shoot
Ayy (skrrt, skrrt)
(SG Gang, nigga, skrrt)
Kodak, why you strapped like that?
Why you act like that?
'Cause I got it by myself (ayy)
(You know I
I'm still forty with the forty close
In the 840 playin' new E-40
With some horny hoes
(Yeah) Finally, y'all been waiting
To hear a verse for
and the Lynch Mob
Cam Threat, WC and the Mad Circle
P.E., them down fools workers, street military
My nigga Kool Rod, my nigga Stick, Naughty by Nature
Cypress
[Intro: Cam'Ron]
Ok First off, you a bitch nigga
Only reason I'm doin this
I'ma jus name 5 reasons real quick, got a hundred fifty
First - you stole
OK First off, you a bitch nigga
Only reason I'm doin this
I'ma jus' name 5 reasons real quick, got a hundred fifty
First, you stole Roc-A-Fella
'cause I done lost it, taggin' niggas like a pit bull with rabies
Gone off 40 ounces of o.e.
Creepin' up on you, like doin' my magnum p.i.
Lazy eye with
I've tried to stay safe by keepin?bustas in
Their place. I'm known as the f-l-
c5
Slash be-o-n-e from the see-l-e-v-e-l-a-n-d. come on and follow me,
boy Eightball, 4-Tay, Speeze-weeze, Spice-weeze, ya smell
Me? It's E-feeze. Mutha fuckaz ain't understandin' the signs of this, I
Cuss a mutha fucka
fraudulent, I'm selling drugs
Where's the love? Hit my plug
This is for my 40 busta's holding crutches
'Cause they know they hustlers
While the man is tryna
The rap game ain't never gon' be decreasin'
The only thing the rap game gon' keep on doin' is increasin'
And there will be no over night sensations them 40
and a 40 and I'm sippin'
Waitin' for the fool to get out the car
The stupid motherfucker thinks I'm a star
But I'm not, I'm the type that'll kick
ain't a damn thing funny
They ain't hatin' on the music, they hatin' on the money
[E-40]
My house so silly, my money so silly
I make more in a week
Ay-thing a nigga spit nigga know about it
Soak it up boy, ya know, ya know,
ya know, ya know, ya know
(E-40)
Smebbin down the street in my 7-0
the Y-E-A A-R-E-A the game ain't constipated
Buckin around in the Golden State where the game originated
Fools be scandalous they used to be squares be
a spleen witta gangsta lean
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It was a dark blue night, nigga toe down sleep
Had a 40 ounce of E and half ounce of weed
Just got
bitch, you'll get served
Get on my dick, and stop steppin'
I'm startin to loose all my nerve
Your thirty-eights, your forty-fives
Ain't doin' shit
friends down
Until ya family up"
If I bring the fish by they cookin'
It's a fish fry
My friends make the fish fly but
They ain't playin' Candy Crush
I don't
[Featuring E-40, Kurupt]
From a nickel and dime ass nigga
To a top top top....big rigga
Check it
Check it Out
Check it Out
hang with G's?
Start uhh, who busy Jesus said
[E-40:]
Fuck cowboy keys, now I ain't never been nobody's sucker
Nor have I ever been any coastal
you)
You look so deep
You know that it humbles me,
Your by my side and troubles them don't trouble me
Many have called but the chosen Is you
Whatever
Aye, we doin' this for the fans
For the motherfuckers that be in our corner
This right here is some live shit
Ain't one word written down
Ain't no
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