Ya see I'm nuttin' but a player call me bad news bear
 And everywhere a nigga go you know I check a hoe there
 And on my second time thru, you know how I do
 I get some head, and some ends and I'm gone by 2
 I got soundcheck bitch, the shows is at 6
 So when you coming in, bring your womanfriends
 I got a few dogs posted at my telly
 D-Shot, Tap, Young Mugz and Celly
 And we gone try to tear the fuckin' roof of something
 We was backstage smokin' and some hoes was thumpin'
 A bitch got mad cause she didn't get chose
 Reached back like a pimp and slapped the hoe
 Your nigga went wild when he first seen that
 Pulled out a sack and rolled one fat
 We was back to the tale cause we bail on them boyz in blue
 Fuckin' wit this Click crew
 And the worst things that happens when your out of the state
 They lock a nigga down and take away his dank
 It makes me can't thank, I gets nervous and sick
 Fiendin' for a motherfuckin' fix
 Chorus:
 (E-40)
 Smoke and we will go
 Puffin' on indo
 So put that back
 Cause we don't fuck wit that
 (B-Legit)
 I left Minnesota cause the spot was tired
 Hit Louiville and the spot was fire
 Old school sittin' on straight laced kicks
 Reminding me of 1986
 Fools burnin' rubber, fuck some switches
 Niggas from the bay smokin' up on bitches
 B was on the gash, smashin' yo
 Hoes passin' out cause there to much smoke
 Gary, Indiana, bitch gone in a minute
 I let you hit my weed and it's straight up shittin'
 In your draws, Guess jeans and all
 And then you had no one, give E a call
 But he called back and wasn't fuckin' wit you
 Cause hoes down South know good voo-doo
 Fuck around and have your ass sprung like Eddie
 Period blood mixed in your spaghetti
 And if I could I would roll a vega
 >From Hillside, Cali to the Get Low Playaz
 You niggas light it for me and I'm pass it to Quinn
 And let it out when you get to chin
 Chorus
 I'm finally hittin' Cali after 3 weeks gone
 Than ran out of boomb and I'm glad to be home
 Now who on my phone, Dante or Bruce
 I be there in a minute to do what we do
 See, it's a triviant game, cause we gone smoke
 And blow big dubs from young body and all
 And I can't give a fuck if you're drunk or smoked
 Imma give you a 5 we gone light the ...
 In to the ... told the shit on the street
 Some of tha homies that be restin' in peace
 The shit won't cease till I see D
 I know my homie got a fat blunt for me
 Pine apple juice, malibu rum
 1501 get your dickhead done
 When it gets like that, you know I gots to fuck
 Or maybe kcikback and get my dickhead sucked
 I won't ask for much, just ass and guts
 And brand new speakers for my oldschool cut
 A big fat sack of that dohja
 So I can get smokin' like I'm 'posed to
 Chorus