E-40

E-40 - It's On On Sight songtekst

Je score:

(Screeching tires  gunshots  broken glass  sirens and screaming)
 Yeah (3x)
 They want problems
 Soon they want me waxed contracts on my ass
 It's coming from the pen they say I owe 'em cash
 Well enough to pass and they need it fast
 But what they failize (fail to realize) is I'll be quick to blast
 Die hard cold blooded killer all about my work
 Dressed up like a female in a mini skirt
 Specialize in doin' dirt shootin' niggas in the shirt
 Put the pistol in his mouth and make it hurt, ooh
 Cutlass, guzzlin' down a 40-ounce bottle of Swiss malt liquor brewsky
 talkin' to a cutie standin' outside the movie theater sittin' on top
 of the
 hood of my Cutlass
 Smokin' on a non-filter pink pack colored edition cigarette
 Clove found the affiliated cashes dick lickin' gainish beadie
 What the fuck? Where's the peace treaty?
 Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy
 M-16's don't shoot no beebees
 Programmed to amputate anything that gets up in my way
 Then I put them same size left over bullets up in my A.K.
 I can't wait 'till we bump heads
 Chorus:
 It on, on sight day and night no matter what I'm dumpin'
 I'm tryin to see you niggas 'bout somethin'(2x)
 (I'm heated, them niggas cheated)
 We had a meetin', shit (sup)posed to been squashed(3x)
 Shit was (sup)posed to been squashed
 I've got a hunch
 Meet me at the Olive Garden spot lets do lunch
 Foolin' em tried to pass the bucket set us up for locks
 Sons of bitches must think we some chumps
 Time to break out the pipe bombs and the pumps
 C-Bo:
 Nigga fuck stressin' pull it
 We kickin' the door with full clips
 Out of Magnums packin' when we blast 'em we all out for the chips
 4-40 water never slip
 Saw the niggas quick and then dip
 Before we spark the pipe bombs and blow the niggas shit to side
 Raise up off they block poppin' gizzun in a big fight
 All out non stop riders until our casket drop
 We smashin' blastin' on any while I remember my many
 Dash and blastin' double 23's, fuck the enemies
 Chorus:
 One of my fake dudes up out HPA shot me a kite today
 He up in Pelican Bay three striker
 Through 25 to L 'cause he goin' to tell on one of his high ranked
 dudes in
 position who wears a diaper
 With a ? sack on the side of his waist blood splattered all on the
 windshield wiper
 Somebody tried to take his face caught him up in his Viper
 Loose as a goose ass out tried to down him like a sniper
 ? ? ? started havin' seizures
 No feelings in his legs, arms, or his sneakers
 C-Bo:
 We stand tall like Minute Bol
 With bigger balls than Ru-Paul
 Strap with 4-4's down to execute all y'all
 Don't want to see us niggas on a mission
 150 round drum 45 slugs bitten
 No remorse hit by the hardcore fo' sho'
 Leave him stuck in his front seat
 70 rounds through his front window
 Ain't no fuckin' with G's
 Fill 'em up to they neck from they knees
 Leave 'em dyin' in the street as we escape on they goldeeze
 Chorus
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: Shawn Thomas (2), Greg Buren

Componist: ?

Publisher: Zomba Recording Corporation

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1998

Taal: Engels

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