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Rick Rock Horns
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E-40
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1
[**feat. Marty James of One Block Radius**]
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[Verse 1: E-40]
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I need mine, quick fast in a hurry, pronto
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Sucker run up and get a three-piece combo
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Northern California, from the slums of the V
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Where a dopefiend'll kill ya for a balloon of Khadafi
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I'm on a special sauce right now, I'm oiled up, I'm turnt
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Drankin, blankin, weeded, burnt
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Bumpin my favorite rapper, go by the name of E-4-O
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He was sayin shit 20 years ago y'all niggas just now though
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It's over they head like a flying saucer, some of these suckers lost
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Never had close encounters with the streets or the cops
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My watch and my batteries, my rims and my tyres
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My [?] regulator, starter and my amplifier
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Old school sidin on them though
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Memphis mojo, adio, hoe
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Woofers, tweeters, horns, slaps
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Hookers, heaters, warrants, traps
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[Chorus: Marty James]
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I ain't gettin fed up tryin get this bread up
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Ain't nobody fuckin with me
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Come from Vallejo, pimps pushin tail
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Triple beam scales got keys
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I know fools bark 'bout what they got
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But I'm really feedin these streets
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Drug, smack, meth, pills, trees
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Show me what you need
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[Verse 2: E-40]
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I just got off the phone with my pimp partner, he pimp hoes
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Say he don't want no black girls, he want some pink toes
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Some pink toes? Yeah, some white girls, mayne
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They easy to manipulate, persuade and play with they fuckin brain
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I said, "Man you a fool, why you do like that? "
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He was like, "Feezy you know I'm about them dollars, mayne, I'm a mack"
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I gotta admit, ever since I known him he kept a bad batch
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A stable of hoes, kinda like those in a pocket full of snacks
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Man, we some Bay boys, till we dead and gone
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We like to talk slick and sly like the Family Stone
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Little one-dollarnaires with big dreams in our eyes
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Waitin for things to mature, waitin for things to materialize
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I know some niggas that been shot in the head - and lived
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I know some niggas that been shot in the leg - and died
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I know some folks, they got they top split like a bagel
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For snitchin and rollin over and tellin on folks like [?]
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[Chorus: Marty James]
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I was born to sell, never snitch and tell
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I keep stackin my cheese
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Got folks up in jail, hell with no bail
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The judge threw away them keys
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Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
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But I'm really feedin these streets
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Chip phones, laptops, bootleg DVD's
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Just tell me what you need
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[Verse 3: E-40]
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Gotta go pick up my folks from the Greyhound station, he 33
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Said he ain't had pussy since pussy had he
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He went in when he was a baby, fresh out of Tehachapi
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Started off in juvy, ended up in the penitentiary
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Solid to the core, solidified, y'all
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Say, "40 they love you, mayne, your name good behind them walls"
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I said, "'preciate it, felly, I'm just tryina play my part
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Stick to the rules and regulations the way that I was taught"
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California raised a pit, not a [?] or a chihuahua
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Might do it or might send it, bust your head like a piñada
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If you start it I'm a end it, I got the money and the power
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It's paid for, not rented, same color as clam chowder
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I got my right hand on my chest like I pledge allegiance
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Tweekin and trippin on how fast my heart is beatin
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Sour diesel chokin and smokin and blowin and puffin all day, my son
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Loved one, I'm loaded like a shotgun
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[Chorus: Marty James]
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Got goons on the corner, all through California
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You know 40 Water runs deep
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Half desperation, half determination
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Hustlin is made of these
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Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
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But I'm really up in these streets
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Spit real game - take heed
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Just tell us what you need
Bruce Springsteen - You Never Can Tell (...
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