E-40

E-40 - Spittin' lyrics

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Gotta take a shit  took a dump in the Mediterranean
 Flushed the toilet  hit the shower
 Snatched a fit up out the clos'
 Miles of a '96 broom handle
 Hangin half way out my drawers
 You niggas better feel me I got patrons to serve
 Nigga got to starts pay props will deserve
 Fuck my (trumpium?) smile my (benevioulum?)
 Might do dirt  fuck you on my way to see these chickies
 Cause in this cheese yeah really
 She likes to go ah, downtown
 She likes it when I, pound pound
 Hears it when I crack it
 Call me Barney Rubble stick the juice down so duck
 Had the pussy poppin bubbles
 Scratchin the paint off up of the walls
 Pickin off in them drawers, rebel without a pause
 She could feel the next stain swimmin in Niagara Falls
 Now no matter extra meal, managin the place
 All up in the motherfuckin' tall can face
 Streets make you broke, Forty Water ain't no joke
 Make way, say hey, check my display
 Buck the shit to your tape
 And youse a bitch if you ain't got no clit
 (Chorus)
 40 took a forty to the fuckin dome
 And now they got me spittin on the microphone...
 40 took a forty to the fuckin dome
 And now they got me spittin on the microphone, beeitch!
 Drunker than a motherfucker spittin that shit
 High rank, nigga poor
 Skat scratch taller than Manute Bol
 Cash rules everything around me
 40 why they why they get the money
 Oh tell me baby that no catch a bitch while 40 7-11
 me and a (staircase?) mo weird
 1-luv to my niggaz in the youth, dog
 Gettin strong, bulkin up, drinkin prune oil
 Y'all say me I need some extra whoop I think I need a drink
 The waiter got me fuckin like me right in here
 bitches sooner than I think
 The LAPD's on crack man
 They shot my nigga Tone Tucker in the back man
 Prejudice motherfucker!
 What niggas need to do is lay low key now
 Squash the fuckin uh-uh start nothing
 Hang with tactical edged (staple?) highly easy
 to be converted to a mack-1
 Twice as righteous, makin poor boys like us
 Drink with me, stackin bass
 And I'm gone for home
 I drunk a 40 to the fuckin door
 (Chorus)
 I'm no guide, don't call me hostess
 Niggaz don't you know I'm addicted to explosives?
 Lookin for the bed bugs, buy a sleep light
 Be ready for the tip-toeing phantoms at night
 When I open em for rent
 Smokin something for the hatest terminator instigator
 Nigga just bought from Traders
 Tyler you lookin all for some of that bit you got a
 nigglet your life is set why you ungreatful motherfuckas
 you better get somewhere where they love you at
 I've been struglin strive so hard to make my shit obese
 Paceing back and forth
 Gritting my teeth
 C-C-L-L-I-I-C-K
 Northern California beat
 I feed your ass
 Lookin ambitious as the motherfuckin bumble
 Soundin' off car alarms
 My shit ain't nothin humble
 Gotta say wassup to some niggas on my team
 Niggas like Rec-Street and Nicky motherfuckin green
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: Earl Stevens, Marvin Whitemon

Composer: ?

Publisher: Zomba Recording Corporation

Details:

Released in: 1995

Language: English

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