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[E-40 having a playalistic converstaion] |
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Hoppin over barbed wire fences nigga |
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Had this one broad right, SHE was so damn sprung |
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she used to hold my motherfuckin.. motherfuckin SAC nigga! |
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Thought you though, nigga |
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And a motherfuckin.. V.H.S., uhh motherfuckin cannister |
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Nigga, yeah ay, I promise you nigga this game been so damn good |
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(Said this rap game's been good to me) |
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Hard times |
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(But I don't know how long that's gonna be..) |
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[Chorus: repeat 2X] |
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Hope I don't go back to slangin ya-yo |
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Slangin llello, to get my maillll |
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[Verse One: E-40] |
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Been a hustler since birth, mama sellin dinners for the church |
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Red-handed, caught me stealin money out her purse |
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Got branded, permanent whip scars on my back |
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Cause I used to get beat, with racing car tracks |
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But now me got wealth, holdin a conference call on my |
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hands free car telephone lookin like I'm talkin to myself |
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Shootin the breeze cuttin it up real smooth like |
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choppin it up like true business men |
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Talkin about it, by the way |
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B - what we doin' this week on SoundScan? |
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If I ain't in Japan, I'm in the Valley |
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Or maybe next door in Gary Payton bowling alley |
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Or maybe at the shootin range, me and Banks |
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Or on the golf course, with Merton Hanks |
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Or we lay in the sun, give me my propers |
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with a beat that's out of this world, lookin down on doctors |
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Sippin on Port, watchin my kids play basketball |
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in the backyard on a 40 by 63 foot long sports court |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse Two: E-40] |
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Business spot up in the wilderness, coyotes and wild boars |
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Dupont registry aluminum pool table made strictly for outdoors |
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Twenty inch gold super Bravos on my ? everybody ain't able |
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to be blessed with success with an independent-ass record label |
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Check it out, marbles, I got the game from my Uncle Saint Char-les |
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Used to bank across the street at Wells Fargo |
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but now it's Merrill Lynch |
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And just think, I used to sit the bench |
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I remember gettin chased by the cops, had to get my stomach pumped |
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full of a quarter ounce of rocks, late afternoon |
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Po-po waitin for me outside of Vallejo Kaiser Permanente |
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emergency room with glocks, ready to Rodney King me to death |
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Somehow I managed to make my escape through |
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the back of the cafeteria by the vending machine department quickly |
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Found myself runnin through the Friendship Apartment Complex |
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over there by the railroad tracks, around the corner from the |
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People's Continuation High School |
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Somewhere off in Lofas, behind Je-nai's Liquor ooh |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse Three: E-40] |
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Get my mail, check it out, dope game ain't goin |
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Now it seems the, white-collared crimes, are hookin up phones |
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"Charlie Hustle, I got a few mathmatics |
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I'm doing a compilation, should I go with Phunky Phat Graph-X? |
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I tell them, "Hell yeah that's a done deal, dude them be off the hinges |
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Dude them did my cover and my bus benches" |
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Game warrior invested, worldwide Sick-Wid-It shit, independent chips |
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BEYOOOOOOOOOTCH! |
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Ay see ay, I'ma tell you nigga |
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That's the thing about this whole thing that jump off |
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It's a fool cause a muh'fucka take his bloody money right |
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until he sit up there and he look and he say |
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"Hold on man, hold on man" |
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A muh'fucka, yknowmsayin? |
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You can either be at this shit |
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or you can be gone with this shit |
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and you look at it and then he say, "Man hold on |
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let me translate this shit - let me translate into some marbles |
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Let me liquidate my motherfuckin revenelles" |
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You understand what I'm sayin? 40-Water now, you understand? |
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Ay, ay, but look, check this out |
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I'm here to sprinkle motherfuckers, lace they tennis shoes |
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Teach them about the motherfuckin game-orienfested situations |
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that goes down in the motherfuckin motherfuckin soils weepolations |
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I ain't bullshittin niggaz! |
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[overlaps chorus] |
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.. I don't bullshit! |
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I ain't bullshittin nigga! |
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[Chorus] |
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There's too many jealous brothers in this game |
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I can't stany the same... I gotta get mine |
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[Chorus] |
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Get my money on.. |
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Don't wanna go, don't wanna go, don't wanna go |
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Don't wanna go back - back to the game, heyyyy |
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To get your mail, BEYOOOOOOOTCH! |
