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Intro] |
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Ha hah, the remix.. five on it! |
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We creepin in too, baby |
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{We got five on ery'thang mayn} |
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We got uhh, Dru Down; we got the.. LUNIZ! (Shock G, whassup?) |
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{Know it's goin together man} |
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Yeah, Richie Rich, E-40 (Spice 1) |
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[Verse One: Dru Down] |
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You say you got five on my tender, you can bend her over the table |
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But be sure that you bring my stallion back to my stable |
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Say, bruh? No elementary school ground playin |
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Not a five dollar bill, but five double zero on the real feel |
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I'm on the level, stayin mellow |
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No criticism from the fellows, hello |
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Being keyed durin a high-speed but still don't tap the B.B.'s |
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I'm D.D., Dru Down, baby |
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[Verse Two: Knumskull] |
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Like Nyquil, I drop fever; so either put your five up |
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or ya gots to "Leave It" like "Beaver" |
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Cause see a, niggie perpin' broke'll smoke your spliff all day |
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Go home and buy big drinky with his breezie then parlay |
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I got five on the Hennessey, Seagram's, or 40's |
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Cause "This is How We Do It" like Montell Jordan |
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I'm from the Oakland City, Frank Nitty is a goner |
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Knum' blowin it up like Oklahoma |
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[Verse Three: Richie Rich] |
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Put ya feev' with my fin, best believe we'll bend |
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Mo' corners than you thought, to somethin right is bought |
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Mo' C-zacks? Believe that, tokin |
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Where you from? Oakland, smokin |
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In attempts to crack the chest plate |
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The zips be so fluffy, the whole town love me |
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At every event I'm sacked up |
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So if ya need me, scream "Double R" when ya see me |
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Chorus: Michael Marshall |
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I got five on it {"Got it good!"} |
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Grab your fo', let's get keyed |
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I got five on it.. |
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Messin with that endo weed! |
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I got five on it {"Got it good!"} |
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It's got me stuck, and I'm tow back |
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I got five on it.. |
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Potnah, let's go half on a sack! |
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[Verse Four: E-40] |
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E-40.. why ya treat me so bad? 40 makes it happen |
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Fosgates slap and revenue grows |
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from just a little bit of lightweight flamboastin |
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Potent fumes lingerin' mighty clouds of Northern Lights |
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Disrespect the Victor Baron |
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and you'll be violatin' my civil rights |
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I'm startin to feel my scrilla |
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But perhaps today my scrilla ain't feelin' me |
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For the simple fact that I'm off to the track where hella fools be |
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Pockets empty, pitchin five, man I'm dusted |
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Took off my hat, passed it around, man sprinkle me |
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[Verse Five: Yukmouth] |
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Me and E-40 to the head, comin fed plus, you let the lead bust |
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Ready to do a murda, mayn; perved off the Hurricane |
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Slurred again, witness what being off two-fifths equal |
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Me killin people like Jason, facin death every sequel |
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(Insane in the membrane!) "Bring the Pain" like Method |
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Neglected, smokin kryptonite to the brain for breakfast |
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Guzzle the Hen-do, finsta do the evil that men do |
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Give me feev', I shall proceed to continue |
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Chorus |
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[Verse Six: Shock G] |
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Yeah, it's been a while since I've hollered from the town |
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Mess around and heard Yuk and Knum, said I gotta be down |
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Cause new styles is goin down, look around you |
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Tunes from the Lunz spreadin round and round you |
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Back to get my O on, they let me flow on |
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The thirty-five on it, yeah, I'm on it |
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Still bringin satin for them drawers |
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Velvet for the mic and got a pound for the cause |
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[Verse Seven: Spice 1] |
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Rollin up cannabis seteva, hittin the Mary Jane |
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Smokin the five before it's tweleve o'clock, sippin on Hurricane |
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Ready to smoke on the endo; rollin up my window, fin' to go to the land |
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With a hand fulla broccoli, when it comes to the sticky I'm the man |
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Crush nasty I be hittin the J so hard I earl |
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Fall on the floor fittin to have a stroke T-H-C ain't no joke |
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I got five on ery'thing, let's get loaded and smoke |
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S-P-I-C-E about to hit it an' croaaaakkkkk |
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Chorus |
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[Outro] |
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Yeahhah, whassup baby? |
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It's me, your boy with the kick that's always tight |
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You a little short on some ends? |
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Don't worry, I'll take care of that, I got five on that |
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I got you |
