E-40 Candlelight

Fuck with me it’s going to be a candlelight (candlelight)

Fuck with me your homies gonna have a candlelight (candlelight)

100 Remy bottles at the candlelight (at the candlelight)

Baby-mommas cryin’ at the candlelight (at the candlelight)

Armor, piercing ammunition (Kaplow)

Luggies, these two two three’s we spittin’ (hock-spew)

Karma will catch up with’ yo past (with’ yo past)

Lamas’ll split yo house in half (blowah)

Blast first ask questions later (blowah)

Black hearse, closed caskets (blowah)

Caravans, funeral task (blowah)

Drive slow, not fast (blowah)

Lights on in the daylight (daylight)

It was on in Sinight (Sinight) [?]

3 to the dome at the stop sign (stop-sign)

A week ago at midnight, rewind (rewind)

Momma on the street fallin’ out (out)

Beating on the ground screaming shout (shout)

Daddy in the half-way house (house)

On his way home, gettin’ out (out)

An eye for an eye

A tooth for a tooth

Name tagged on the wall; no truce, bulletproof

Can’t be caught loose- slippin’

Slippery at the tongue

It was all over a bitch when it’s said and done

Fuck with me it’s going to be a candlelight (candlelight)

Fuck with me your homies gonna have a candlelight (candlelight)

100 Remy bottles at the candlelight (at the candlelight)

Baby-mommas cryin’ at the candlelight (at the candlelight)

They’ll sneak ya (sneak ya)

Pull up on the side of you and leak ya (leak ya)

Turn your vehicle into a shootin’ range (shootin’ range)

Let them guns bark like some great-danes (bark bark bark)

Ulterior motives and hidden agendas

Never know who you sitting down and having dinner with

These smirky muthafuckas ain’t shit

And these rabbit ass bitches will do anything for some dick

I was taught by the OG’s, lace me mane

When I was nine years old a student of the game

Used to be the lookout kid when them boys came

“HIDE YOUR BUNDLES” -That’s what I used to scream

A solid muthafucka, concrete (concrete)

Never tell if I’m in a hot seat (hot seat)

Bounce back if I am having a loosing streak (loosing streak)

Can’t be seven days, can’t be week/weak (can’t be weak)

Money on my mind pockets full c-notes

Throwing up my street sign like a first-base coach

Heavy on the grind all the fuckin time

Bitch I want a 100 like a Dayton Spoke

Nice guys finish last and stay broke (stay broke)

Bad guys finish first and push dope (push dope)

Make it past 25, it’s America (it’s America)

Got to be mo’ careful

E-40 Ballaholic

[E-40]

You know my.. my whole def-a-nation is to spit straight game

You dig that? (Straight game) I I come from the game baby y’know

I come from this motherfucker, you undersmell that?

Aya, and you know, it’s like this nigga

Pimped-out all day you know Hillside Vallejo nigga

You undersmell me? Been speakin the real for many moons

My niggaz in the 7-0-7 on down to Compton

I’m in my FUBU drawers, she in her gown

cause if some cats tryin to have at me,

I sick the canine in the background

I’m plannin on splittin my crown but it ain’t gon’ be too simple

See I’m a baller, I got bars around the window

Rottweilers, pits, aikietas, doberman pischers tanked up in the yard

With a sign on the fence that reads “warning: beware of dog!”

You play the frog if you feel froggish nigga leap

I neglect my dogs, starvin, sometimes they don’t eat

Elroy speak to me about my triple-beam; officer, I got proof

Po’-po’, that’s for weighin nuts and fruits

Run with a whole bunch of rugged rowdy-ass knuckleheads, knahwhatImean?

Big nigga, the size of a football team

I wear these glasses so that I can look like a square

but if you ever see me in a fight with a bear

don’t help me nigga, help the bear!!

Me and my wales, we be coonin

But see you the type of the nigga that’ll go in the backroom

and beep yo’self and act like yo’ pager boomin

Yeah man, cause a real tycoon

gon’ take this shit from the flo’ to the moon

Still Northstar ridin, six-oh strikin

Switch up V-S cherry chokin the wrist and the pinkie

But keep it loose around the neck and make sure hoes in check

So if you gon’ fill a nigga cup, fill it up with paper

cause we ballaholics bitch, ain’t that quiet about this shit

If you’re on it spend it like you mean it

Uhh, I’ll have you

Ever since I was ankle low to a centipede’s claw

I always wanted to play pro-baseball

Weepolization family, that’s my favorite sport

but instead I’m back and forth to jail and in and out of court

BEOTCH! Serious about my rock shrine

I don’t give a fuck how much courage juice you had

Nigga yo’ mug don’t mean like mine!

I bring the noise like a cymbal {*CRASH*}

I fuck with 40 dem, make you stick your pistol out the window

BEOTCH! Y’all oughta see me at the state fair

Showin off in front of my broad; tryin to win my lil’ nieces

one of the biggest stuffed animal prizes there

Nicknamed Charlie but my street name is Earl

Ballaholic like Felix Mitchell nephew Lil’ Darrell

I know these streets like the Task Force know dope

I am the streeets, my ghetto pass can’t be revoked

Ten percent, I paid my tithes, forgive me for my sins

Smoke an ounce of weed a day, maybe that’s why I ain’t go no ends

You see, you niggaz real truant mayne

Runnin around here puttin a black eye in the game

when we tryin to feed y’all somethin nutritional for the brain

and nourish yo’ game

You see there’s two type of niggaz in this world:

those that eat and those that don’t

What type of nigga is you, you know?

You see we got the tycoon status

Big hogs, tryin to pile the money up out your trash

You dig?

You can call me Lawry’s cause I’m seasoned

I eat crevice, but not when it’s bleeding

Don’t get me wrong, I love sex but I don’t play that part

I love Virginia, but not when the Virginia’s tart

Toss me good, and I might Dolce and Gabbana it

Gave yo’ ass some bread, and let you go buy up some shit

Callin yourself takin advantage of my riches

I’m tryin to be nice to yo’ ass

I normally talk bad about you bitches

Invested to “Tha Hall of Game” buggin and bein notorious

for slappin chickenheads upside they weave-a with my Nokia

Mayday mayday, callin all patrol cars and units

Be on the lookout for the Hillside managler, 40-Water the Ballaholic

I’D RATHER FLY THAN RIDE AMTRAK

When I’m in Dallas I fuck with (?), and go hard black

Make an opera singer wanna write some raps

Papered up – like who? Like a fax BEOTCH

I know you didn’t say papered up like a fats

(Yeah I did, yeah I did) Yeah, cause we do this shit

up off the ground on a pitcher’s mound

Slidin, to the bad catcher, able to snatch ya

Bat yo’ G out the pocket

Run it again with a nigga that’s in the socket

And it ain’t my problem, if the hoe hollerin

We all about dollars, and collar-poppin

Nigga, BEOTCH!!!

Baller, let me explain to you, a ballaholic nigga

Undersmell this nigga

If you got your ve-hi-cle in your baby’s momma’s name

nigga youse a ballaholic, nigga you undersmell me?

Please believe in a nigga

Ballaholic nigga, you undersmell me?

If you sittin on gold tennis shoe slippers nigga,

you undersmell me? Youse a ballaholic

Don’t ever get it twisted nigga, yeah

If you put ten thousand down on some je-wels nigga

over at your house nigga in Frisco nigga

and go back and get it the next day, youse a ballaholic

You smell that nigga? Ballaholics nigga

Ballaholics fuck with Sic-Wid-It records nigga

Ballaholics listen to that mob shit nigga

We stick to the rules and regulations of this motherfuckin game

you undersmell that? Please believe it, bitch-ass niggaz

IF YOUSE A BALLAHOLIC, nigga (scream it like you mean it)

youse a baller, please believe that

That’s what a ballaholic is nigga

We ball til we have it all you undersmell that?

Rick Rock, youse a ballaholic?

My nigga, my nigga D-Wiz a ballaholic

don’t ever get it twitted nigga

My nigga Kaveo in the motherfucker with me you undersmell that?

We some fools with it

My nigga Steve Garvey, (??), you undersmell that?

And that nigga Muggsy you know he’s a fuckin ballaholic

Gold-tooth motherfuckin pretty boy Floyd ass nigga

I love you to death motherfucker, fuck ya though

Fuck ya fuck ya fuck ya I’m in this MOTHERFUCKER FOR LIFE!

V.. A.. L-L-H-O, L-I-C, it’s me E-Feeze-E

L-I-C, it’s me E-Feeze-E

BALLAHOLIC BEOTCH!!!!!!!!!!!

E-40 By Any Means

Ugh

Stick with it hahaha

Yea what you in

Black chevy on 23s

I’m through the hood with b and a 2-2-3 under the seat

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Can’t be draggin my feet and cattin off gotta be prepared at all times

Cause in magnum central and the bay they’ll pop you in ya spine

And california is hella hectic tips get sent, intercepted and redirected

Can’t be running around this motherfucker loose as a goose

They’ll turn you to a vegetable like the soup

Now I don’t condone busting a suckas dome

But if he plottin on my dome goin get his dome blown bitch

If there’s money being generated I want part of it

Keep a low profile stay low key won’t get targeted

Neva my multiplications, splitting the block and it’s booming

And if I get ever get popped or pined it’s a family reunion

I be in that bitch shootin constant sayin I miss you

Makin dice outta water and toilet tissue

Drinking cadillacs, coco and coffee prunos

Playin dominoes, chess and peanuts

Bitch

Black chevy on 23s

I’m through the hood with b and a 2-2-3 under the seat

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

My nigga 40 hit me up and say he need a favor

Ain’t nothing sweet man, now or later

He said some niggas playin games in the bay man

Keep ya pay man just tell me where he stay man

He told me 7s on the real me and this nigga close

And then he told me a little moe I said he got to go

Fuck with my daughta and so know you just goin have to be

Another victim of a unsolved mysteries

Caught a flight that morning and flew back the same night

Caught the sucka eating suppa blew his brain right

Up out his head he gotta be dead now the kids cryin nigga mama probably be scared

Everybody pointing finga they don’t even know

I turned that bitch into a ghost I move off the coast

I smoke like a roast get ya ass toast

And I be ridin’ dirty from the east to the west coast

Black chevy on 23s

I’m through the hood with b and a 2-2-3 under the seat

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Raw, raw hussle my nigga that’s how I do it

Real niggas get to the money and run through it

Bitch I’m the shit like a sewage I get it and do it movin

Fast lane nigga I don’t do the cruzin

Fast life let these bitches do the choosing

I’m using all my knowledge and steady stackin my profit

Once you get around these bitches you see that we main the topic

You hatin and niggas poppin we grindin and neva shopping

Niggas still selling dope shell rockin

I come from a corner where they still clockin

Ready rockin hit the avenue and get it poppin

Plus anywhere I go I got that wack a flocka

Plocka placka now that’s what I call a show stoppa

Amma get it by any means necessary

Nigga I ain’t neva waited on the tooth fairy

Nigga I ain’t neva waited on the tooth fairy

Black chevy on 23s

I’m through the hood with b and a 2-2-3 under the seat

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

Worry bout me

Worry bout me

Am like you ain’t gotta worry bout me

E-40 43

I duck behind d peels in da liquor, hide behind da broccoli

I feel like can’t nobody stop me

From a little young mustache, hella curious an nosey

Two big ol’ ballin ass nigga, errbody know me

I”m a boda like a trucka, ready to pluck a sucka

Befo’ I short stop maself, I’m a send his ass to hell

With dese 78’s two shells, double deuce 3 pails

In front a erry fuckin body, betta not aim at nobody

Else you be sleepin with d snails, d worms to be precise

I be fuckin with d scales, I got the lowest price

Put a few gaysyou are vagabon on ice, if I must

When we tell it (tell it), ain’t no such thing as trust trust)

Don’t think think that I won’t bust (bust) a nigga head to da temper fat

Split his cooler pack, push his helmet back

I get d pleasure when I pop my powder, pennies on da dollar

I’ve been on ma block forever ma nigga, ain’t one deal went sour

I’m in da hood like a motor, d neighbourhood mechanic

Houses where I keep ma yola, see ma soup just warmed over

Betta not hit ma toaster, microwave or roast ya

I’m out here with dese spiders, tarantulas and roaches

I break d back off a king, mix some soda with da A1D

I ziploc an flip flop four 3

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I break d back off a king, mix some soda with da A1D

I ziploc an flip flop four 3

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I originate from rich niggas bank deir dope

Get rich an straight pitch, straight up off da post

Keep it bangin in d pico, d stacks ceno

Lil niggas on da lookout dats child support

Keep ma dope at Ms Kings, right across from tha store

See her husband is a CO an already know

Got a cold when a got a young bitch, twentyfo’

Sniff sniff blow, an sipp sip bo

I’m pro an gettin doe, see d money love beelah

Got a Lisa fever errtime a nigga see her

An I don’ play either, I play with millimeters

Modern day heaters, call em black spleazers

I beat d block down, hella rounds a ball blasts

White Range Rover supercharged an all dat

You ain’t with d shit, then nigga you fall back

Or come to da spot an see what I call crack

I break d back off a king, mix some soda with da A1D

I ziploc an flip flop four 3

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I ziploc an flip flop 43

One a ma rebellers was askin me hella questions (darn it)

I say ‘what is you a CI, a confidential informant? ‘

Meet me at 711, act like you gonna buy some medicine

An I be posted up in da parkin lot with da inventory

If the popos get on ma ankles like a shoe (like a shoe)

I ain’t have no other choice but to blame you (blame you)

Blame you, bang you, let tha thang do what tha thang do

Ain’t you, hit ya frame in yo brain too

I break backs off the soft packs, turn em hard

Get it in with da Mexican walk d yard

An in d end when ma next a kin pull yo card

Have your whole wind take yo nigga free a charge

I break d back off a king, mix some soda with da A1D

I ziploc an flip flop four 3

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I break d back off a king, mix some soda with da A1D

I ziploc an flip flop four 3

I ziploc an flip flop 43

I ziploc an flip flop 43

E-40 Blame It On The DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

She wanna drop dat, den run it back (ru-run it back)

An you can blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

I’m on like the most requested song

In his eyes, his bitch can do no wrong

In her eyes, look like she wanna jump ma balls

Give me dome, blow me like a saxaphone

When I found ma pieces fit tha ism an manipulatin

I tell her what she wanna hear an make her feel great

Tha smackology, make her feel guilty not me

When I’m wrong, I use reverse psychology

Wen am mackin an stackin madamamashin ma stash to boost up ma stats

From a little analyst into a boss savage

Who had dreams an high hopes to live rich an lavish

Survival skills, mannish right head an hustlin tactics

If it ain’t no bread involved, then I won’t be involved

Unless you’re ma relative or ma partna dawg

Ain’t a rachet type I’m a raspy type like stingy P

DJ put the record to da meat

In da club goin crazy, errbody drunk

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

She wanna drop dat, den run it back (ru-run it back)

An you can blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

So OG but yet so useful

They say between me an you forty low key go

I remember when da nigga used to push blow

Now he on da tracks an in da record store

Puttin on ma chain an pendant, poppin ma collar like a boss

I’m hella long wind, I’ll cock yo ear off

When it comes to spittin game, I’m pro

Don’t check me ma nigga, check yo ho

I’m about this paper, this playa sharp like a razor won’t save her

You wanna wife her an date her, keep her like a crusader

Evertime you pay her she pay me, you buy her a louboutin

I fucked her in ma jeep, in da backseat of ma rubican

Pussy was da bomb! Like this bubba kush

Brazillian wax not no barbara bush

Smokin an drinkin an curvin an swervin, that’s what I specialize in

I like em dark but I prefer light skin

In da club goin crazy, errbody drunk

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

She wanna drop dat, den run it back (ru-run it back)

An you can blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Indoor trees an tobacco leaves

Grind d weed down, no stivs no seeds

Errway I go you can smell d aroma

I got d lemon squeeze an a case a corona

I’m mannish, even when I’m at work

I go to church smellin like purp (stop lyin!)

You’re right, I just needed som’n to rhyme with dat line

But certainly out here, mayne this the sign of the times

I be knockin dat sodi water, his beast be here

I fuck with ma nigga, he say the randomest shit

I grew up on that nigga, he raised me an ma clique

Taught us how to hustle an pick up a brick

How to knock a chick without liftin a finger

Use ma mouthpiece, no misdemeanor

Half money half heart, can’t be no marshmallow

She came in here with you an left with me, ma fella

(Bitch!)

In da club goin crazy, errbody drunk

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

An you can blame it on d DJ

(Bla-blame it on d DJ)

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

She wanna drop dat, den run it back (ru-run it back)

An you can blame it on tha DJ

Bla-blame it on tha DJ

E-40 Don’t Shoot The Messenger

I got love for real dudes good brothas don’t respect suckas

What want for myself I want for others

I had holes in socks and my draws growin up stressin

Didn’t have a lot of money and material possessions

Pop warner and little league pitched played out field

Had a valet times hill and paper route to help pay the bills

My hood is a battlefield lots of talent a skill

Women smart enough to be journalists like federico winfield

We hollow broke we or got the latest iphone

A zap it or choke in the lebron zone

Can’t remember your sat but to every e40 song

You can recite every lyric and rap along

We living in different day such challenging times

Financial binds, senselessness crimes

I was talkin to my og he did 20 for real

He said if I had some bread I wouldn’t put none of these niggas in my will

Because they turn like a steering wheel and forget you when you in jail

They didn’t write me or nothin no commissary no mail

That’s what he said to me so I pulled out a g

Even though he used to run with my uncle I was just 3

Years old with a snotty nose and observing him being nosey

Soaking up game and ear husslin while they trade war stories

Thugin and bustin, death and destruction

Chaos and catastrophe, triump and tragedy

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

I don’t come from money I come from fried baloney

Starvin and thirsty eb key cards pop a murphy

Lord have mercy it’s brutal and murky out here on the ave

Where the mail man’s scared to come in you can’t catch a cab

Me and my partnas be gettin together drinkin, smokin herb

Talkin bout reincarnation comin back as a bird

I was channel surfing watchin the word network cause I get inspired

When I here the ministry of joyce myers I use my rushcard to order her tapes

Or should I say dvds her’s and tb jakes

Is it any good people left on this earth that show pity

That will do anything for their relatives give up a kidney

But would their relatives do the same for them I don’t know

You’ll be surprised how selfish people can be even kin folk

I can’t imagine me goin to hell the devil’s a liar

What you wanna be I wanna be one of God’s angels when I die

The pearly gates not the underworld in the afterlife

At the end of the tunnel will there be light

Will the sky be purple, will the grass be blue

Will I recognise my family will they know me too

Living on this earth is a test behold

When God call we can’t put in on hold

I’m just the writer not the editor

Here go my letter don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Don’t shoot him

Don’t shoot the messenger

Hey I like to say to ugh all the industry people out there to that ugh

Has control of what we call hiphop, like for people to put more of an effort for hiphop to be what it was instead of the culture of violence that it is right now you know there’s a lot of things going you know what I mean

There’s a lot of people that put in a lot of time, you the break dancers

The graffiti artist, people rappin all over the world

And I think it means a lot, I mean it means a lot to people like me that for all my life I’ve been in hiphop

And it should more than just somebody standin on the side a the road selling dope

I mean that may or may not have it’s place too because it’s there

But I’m just sayin I ain’t neva shot nobody, I ain’t neva stab nobody

I’m 45 years old and I ain’t I ain’t got no criminal record you know what I mean the only thing I’ve ever done is care about my music

So I mean so while we teaching people what it is about life in the ghetto

Then we should be teaching people what life is in the ghetto me tryna grown up

And come up out of the ghetto and we need everybody’s help out there to make it happen

Hiphop needs to grow up and I’m a grown man I’m a be doin hiphop all my life

I need somebody’s help to help me do it. So let’s get this thing done

E-40 Project Building

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

A baby Syria, Kuwait

Hanarum drums that look jus like a curled up snake

Chances are, you won’t survive if you fake

They make yo car look like a milk crate

Bla-ba-bla-ba-bla, ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke

Boo-boo-bloo-bloo, du-du-du-du-du-du

In New York they got subways, out here we got bark

Out here they knock you down in front of Walmart

Its thow, these youngstas crazy

Born in da 90’s thousands, chemical babies

Some about they allowance, some ain’t about shit

Catch you off size, outta bounds, an put the gun at yo leg

In d projects, in d flat lands, an d inner city

It’s drug infested an gritty, polluted, shitty, pissy

Rob they kin folk for a brick, turn on em like a pit

Beat a homey up cause they say snitch

(Bitch!)

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

I keep it coming filtrating in the gucci car

My gus got chop sticks like a sushi bar

All these your babies say damn how cute you are

I say fuck you bitches but she say how rude you are

I’m in this project cut trying sell me some

I hope my caliplow tryna mail me some

Maybe a brick maybe some pills or a bell or summ’n

I need this brick cologne on cause I reek of money

I got a gold toothbrush, brush my teeth with money

I’m in the project with the will I have a hunny

In the colors, engine running, only God can judge mi

Is the land of dictation ain’t open for discussion

Remember 1994 it was hella ugly

Fourteen years old found fellascrubmi

Christmas can’t even get shit so I readjusted

You eva told on ma nigga you can’t tell mi nuttin

Its Gucci

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

We don’t give a fuck what ya feelin (what ya feelin)

European car no ceilin, gettin it makin a killin (makin a killin)

Made a quarter million out dis project buildin (project buildin)

Workin on ma project window (project window)

Am breaking everything down in the trap slow (trap slow)

Smoking on that kush from California (OG

I’m cooling in the bay with the grower (with the grower)

If you don’t have respect in the projects (in the projects)

Then you can never come to the projects (the brick)

You need money and power or you gettin stretch (stretch)

I get the A1 bricks from Cali then they gettin stretch (Forty)

I just left Colombia now am back in di hood (in di hood)

For lil miss go to Cali and my plug good (city)

And we don’t have no problems in our projects (no)

Its a whole lot of foreigners in our project (foreigns)

We got bentley coops and raris in di partments (rar)

Black amigos runs game from the from the projects (mi amar)

Quarter million dollars every week profit (come on)

The hold zone sees Atlanta on the high shit (let’s go)

E-40 Governed By Contagions

Portrait of a family force fed through tunnel straws

Singing cannibal hymns of the bourgeoisie

There’s a narc on every corner

Knock, knock, knock on every door

With a home made remedy to loosen every tongue

How many bites do you think it takes to get to the cyanide tooth?

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself, my love

Smuggled in their faith like an orbit in decay

Drools the cloying adulation of the piss ants

One shot for every snitch leads the needle to the stitch

It’s a homemade remedy to loosen every tongue

How many bites do you think it takes to get to the cyanide tooth?

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself, my love

How many cries will the owners fake to save pathological truths?

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself, my love

That’s the way the guillotine claps

She’s the one who’s governed by contagions

That’s the way the guillotine claps

She’s the one who’s governed by contagions

Life! Is not the answer

Cry! Will you assimilate love in the time of gilded crumbs?

Crawl! Until you weep with blood

Life! Is not the answer

Canaries in the coal mine dropping like flies

How many bites do you think it takes to get to the cyanide tooth?

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace your poleaxed love

That’s the way the guillotine claps

She’s the one who’s governed by contagions

That’s the way the guillotine claps

She’s the one who’s governed by contagions

Too many bodies shriveled up in their tributes

Too many bodies flayed with a grin

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself for a flood

He’s the man behind the dresser giving zodiac advice

He says there will come a day to delete everything

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself for a flood

There’s a woman eating her newborn under a tractor’s frame

She says barren are the fields from the nephilim rain

Brace yourself, my darling

Brace yourself for a flood

That’s the way the guillotine claps

He’s the one who’s governed by contagions

That’s the way the guillotine claps

He’s the one who’s governed by contagions

Governed by contagions

Governed by contagions

E-40 Grey Skies

Grey skies don’t always shine where we’re from

We keep going until d day is done

We grind, some days that ain’t enough

So we keep going until d day is done

Till d day is done, done, done

Loving life, front row seats at d fights

Casino lights, seasons form, fuck da price

Use your wife on your arm, let her roll d dice

Bet a thousand in d field, hit em twice

A star, so she ride wid me, she ma role model

Good times, bad times, stressing

Bad times, good times, a blessing

Sexy, make up sessions

Teaching em lessons

They asking me questions

Who? What? When? Where? How?

On a cloudy day I can make you smile

Grey skies don’t always shine where we’re from

We keep going until d day is done

We grind, some days that ain’t enough

So we keep going until d day is done

Till d day is done, done, done

Show you d otha side a d game that don’t stop

A bottle a Opus white wine, 500 dollaz a pop

You look like somebody drew you sweetheart, you fine

All dem lames that pass you up, they blind

You ma rib I want you to have ma kids

Start a family his and hers, hers and his

Take baby steps, no rush and maybe one day soon

We can elope and jump da broom

You can teach our daughter how to cook, red beans an rice

I can teach our son how to fight, an tie a tie

We got a lot in common baby we see eye to eye

Neither one of us perfect, but we can try

I been known you since middle school, but you ain’t know it

You had a crush on me too, but you ain’t show it

Look at you, you still glowin

Let’s hit da movies, or go bowlin

Grey skies don’t always shine where we’re from

We keep going until d day is done

We grind, some days that ain’t enough

So we keep going until d day is done

Till d day is done, done, done

If you tryna find a good one they out there, mayne you just ain’t looking

Cause somebody out dere for somebody

A lot of us come from poverty, broken homes

Dealing with d pressures a everyday life

I got a lot a home boys dat done passed up their future wife looking for Mrs wrong

When Mrs right is right in their face

(But for real)

Grey skies don’t always shine where we’re from

We keep going until d day is done

We grind, some days that ain’t enough

So we keep going until d day is done

Grey skies don’t always shine where we’re from

We keep going until d day is done

We grind, some days that ain’t enough

So we keep going until d day is done

Till d day is done, done, done

E-40 Chitty Bang

[Hook: Ty Dolla Sign]

Ya baby momma love me, ya baby daddy hate me

Ya bitch wanna fuck me, I said ya bitch wanna fuck

And we gon’ get it like

Chitty, chitty, bang, bang [x4], whoa-oh!

[Verse 1: E-40]

I made a detour out of the game when I was hustlin’ crack

Made a couple of dollars, made a little bit of change, never looked back

You could find me at the shooter range, practicing bussin’ gats

Or in the vocal booth, in this new studio, bussin’ raps

With some gold on my body, out my body, off Carlos Rossi

I’m sloppy, I treat my luxury scraper like a Bugatti

La di da di, she like to party off molly, Bacardi

Love to get naughty, a hottie, up in the lobby, she stopped me

She said “40 Water, where you ’bout to be?”

I said “Follow me, follow me, follow me, bitch, room 223”

You got to pay me or pay no attention, that’s how it be

When you born and raised in the V, Northern Cali, Silicon Valley

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Juicy J]

Paid nigga, yeah, I make it happen, turnin’ up, ratchet

Thick chick under my arm make your chick look average

Thick bitch, yeah, a big ol’ ass, poke it like a cactus

And she got a face that belongs up in a beauty pageant

It’s ya boy, Juicy J, trippy, I got realer pimps

Balling hard everyday, ratchet bitches can’t resist

I stay laughing to the bank but my dough ain’t funny

I run out of rap before I run out of money

When I pop a pill, that’s foreplay

Now I’m all in her face like Olay

I’m like “okay”, I kill the pussy like OJ

When I’m finished with ya woman, she gon’ think we sold mints

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Ty Dolla Sign & (E-40)]

You wanna be around the winners? (A winner)

Say you only had a few niggas? (A few of ’em)

Girl, I’m just being honest (honest)

I know what you want and he’s not it (not it)

I’m off the shits and I’m wit’ it (wit’ it, mane)

They can’t stop us, we gon’ get it (get it, mane)

I’m just being honest (honest)

I know what she want and he’s not it

That’s why

[Hook]