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Dusted 'n' Disgusted
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E-40
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1
Verse One: E-40
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I'm really not all that sure
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Bout when things is finna mature
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So let me find me a nigga with a grip
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And hit his ass quick with one of them whoops
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(What's the definition of a lick?)
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Taking a niggaz shit
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(Hey put that on sumthin)
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I put that on The Click, The Click
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Back to fuckin work one of the homies jus got dusted
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Time to do some dirt, uhh, I never trusted
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Them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival
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Now the town is funky, it's called survival
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What y'all wanna do? They got us scuffled
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(bullet high, get in your eye) if this was a fifth well I be drunk
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I'm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me false
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We had em eatin, shit 'posed to been squashed
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I noticed one killa on the double dribble and set him up y'all
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She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball
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Thick ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker
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Scarecrow creepin Southern bitches, aka Posie Pussyfictious
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Verse Two: Spice-1
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Nigga been holdin guts, but shit on hisself and a funky bill
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Pullin out bills, frontin on material shit
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That's when I get to killin shit (killin shit)
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And settin 'im up and havin 'im catchin a couple of slugs
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Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta fuck with savage thug
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Pistol pop in they ass, see niggaz be gettin this twisted
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It's that bitch that killed ya
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Took all your money peeled ya
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Seven niggaz bust in the room with AK's
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While a nigga be puttin on his jimmy
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All of a sudden they shoot up your Vuitton
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Before you can hit the broccoli
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See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn't make that money
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Left them niggaz jacked up, and the bitch she macked him
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He's a busta, punk ass nigga, y'all know the streets
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That's why that nigga naked layin dead in between some bloody sheets
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It's just a part of the game he didn't feel
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Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill
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You don't know that hoe main that bitch can't be trusted
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Dusted and di-motherfuckin-sgusted
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Chorus: E-40
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Some cold hearted shit
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Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
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Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do
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Cold hearted bitches
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Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
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Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted them bustas
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Some cold hearted shit
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Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
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I never trusted them bustas
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And it's them cold hearted bitched
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Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted
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Dusted and disgusted
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Verse Three: E-40, 2Pac
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Let's let of some two or threes on the other side of t-uh-town
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Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town)
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And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin range
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Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games
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Droughts, out, shhh lost clientele but I will prevail
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By sellin the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine
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Try not to steal narcotics
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When these punk MC's and bitches be the reason why
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The smoke be comin up out the chow, with my nigga Pac
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Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin sick
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I'm in my rag hittin switches I'm suspicious of these bitches
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I keep on, calllin, but ain't nobody pickin up
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I think she's stallin, this evil bitch is tryin ta set me up
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Came all alone if it's on then it's on
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Where's my motherfuckin chrome, only jealous niggaz roam
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It's a war zone (war zone) but I'm a man so with gun in hand
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I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the fuckin plan
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Can't understand, but the things ain't the same
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You could die over these bitches if you slippin in the game
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Niggaz gang bang, but bitches gang bang too
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Give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain
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If you was smart figure, don't have no love in your heart nigga
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Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted
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Bitches can't be trusted, you know the rules
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They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin fool
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(These hoes out here tryin to hold a nigga's heart
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So a nigga get his money fucked with
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Almost in-laws)
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Hey be proud of it when you turn these bitches upside down
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What's gonna happen
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(Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if
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a bitch ridin)
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(Yeah main, them hoes talented
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They be fuckin with mo' MC's at Jack the Rapper)
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(Aight fuck it, what you say Mall?
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Ay, fuck them sheisty ass bootches, nigga)
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Verse Four: Mac Mall, Spice-1, E-40
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The California lifestyle that I live
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Where the bitches is crooked and niggaz jus don't give
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A flyin fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin on the tay-low
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Bay Area playa, tryin ta have shit major
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And a bitch won't save ya
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So I ain't playin Captain Save a Hoe
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I mob up in ya like a pro and then I'm gone
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I'm like Sylvester Stallone, everyday is like a Cliffhanger
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Action packed, I let the mini-mac smack that ass
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Them hoes jacked that ass
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Nigga woulda got smokin on that hash
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Can't have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash
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'cause he's a busta, niggaz with clusters
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Slippin in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass bitch
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Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink)
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You love them Bootsy bitches, can't let them pussy bitches
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Gank that ass, betta hide your cash and check her fast
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Pump your brakes nigga, slow your roll don't go too fast
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Cause bulletproof ain't doin no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'
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Now, niggaz comin up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin floor
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Damn, hollow points to flesh tears through the teflon vest
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Now r-uh-rest
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Pull a plug on a flatline over those, one nigga less
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One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West
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Crushin the flesh, dem bitches played a game of death
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Look over your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it
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I'm tryin to told ya end up dusted
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Chorus
E-40 "I STAND ON THAT" FT. JOYNER LUCAS ...
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