Where them naked hoes at?
 E Feezey!
 Too Scheezy!
 We off the heezy fo'scheezy baby!
 Off the heezy I thought you theezy!!
 Niggaz ain't havin no cheesy like us main!
 They ain't havin no raveez!
 Shit.
 Haha you know us.
 Where K Ceeezi at man? Tell him sing that shit.
 Lace dem fools or something.
 Beotch!

 Chorus: K Ci

 Say that you got it all
 Love the way you players ball
 Everyday you're at the mall
 Tell me is it true or false
 Say that you got it all
 Love the way you players ball
 Claimin that your mail is tall
 Tell me is it true or false

 Verse One: E-40, Too $hort

 I put my mack hand down ain't never been asound
 I was havin b-r-e-a-d way before this rap game nigga been town
 Thought you theezy, for sheezy, niggaz 'member
 Earl, Brat, and Denell dem boys from Vallel
 At every light it's automatic, BURN RUBBER
 See my folkers in the traffic, WHASSUP ERB
 Follow that cab it got dope in it, uhh
 My potnah $hort got hoes in it

 I'm always hearin rappers big ballin on they songs
 I do that shit for real and you'll never say I'm wrong
 S-500 straight sittin on twenties
 TV in the dash pimpin hoes gettin money
 I'm Too $hort baby been down since the eighties
 For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes
 Lexus, trucks, drop-Vette, Caddy
 Bitches don't call me by my name they call me daddy

 Chorus

 Verse Two: E-40, Too $hort

 K-Ci $hort E-40 Fonzarelli
 I'll probably never have long money like Ross Perilli
 But shit we just want a hip
 Don't want the whole plate
 Don't put the two on the ten, don't ever perpetrate
 Like a lot of these fools I see on TV
 With the Armani Chanel Versus Versacci
 Why motherfuckers can't be broke sometimes?
 Sometimes it's cool to floss
 But don't buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car
 Before you buy a house

 They always said I couldn't rap, I just say bitch
 I guess the bitch, made me rich
 And now you wanna call me hardcore
 While I be steppin out the shower on a marble floor
 I paid the IRS taxes send FedEx and faxes
 This industry'll is like fuckin, fat bitches
 All work and no play, I do it everyday
 anyway cuz I gotta stay paid 40

 Chorus

 Verse Three: E-40, Too $hort

 We throw parties on big-ass boats, niggaz wrap they paper
 Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica
 Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, shamrock and severin
 Long expensive fuh-flights, up dere in the heavens
 Fat ass royalty checks, fat ass cribs
 Smokin blunts and drinkin brew on the blacony, barbecuin ribs
 The more scrilla, the merrier
 I represent the Ya area

 I walk from Foothill and Paperscourt to Sixty-Seven MacArthur
 To Freddie B house to make tapes with my potnah
 Hit Arroyo Park, we had tapes for sale
 Got a paper bag full of that, can't you tell
 it's funky, everybody nod they head like this
 I said bitch, and everybody read my lips
 I got rich, suckin up the game from the O
 and even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow
 I survived cuz I got mo', game than them
 It came straight from the prostitutes, players, and pimps
 It was my destiny, I came the same every time
 So don't question me, I transfer the game in the rhymes

 I'm not a freestyler, don't rap for free main
 It's Paystyle on mine, cuz I love money main
 Landrovers and Toyota, Lexuses
 Six-hundred feet twelve with them big ass motor Mercedeses
 We don't be savin hoes, bitches be savin us
 Bitch disrespect me in my car, bitch best to catch the bus
 I keep a briefcase full of game, while y'all be ear-hustlin
 Ain't no paperback pimpin nigga, we ain't strugglin

 Chorus

 Verse Four: Too $hort

 I'm Shorty the Pimp, I come funky
 Again and again, they say when will it end?
 Maybe never, cause I can still spit it
 But I ain't rappin for cheese, I want meal tickets
 Gotta start somewhere, and I'm past that
 For the right scratch, I be the last mack
 So stick yaself Pretty Tony
 You tryin ta make a hit, but your shit sounds phony
 Not like AT&T but like ET
 You can't be me, so would you please see
 If you can keep my name out your mouth
 Cause you don't really know what the game's all about
 It's bout feedin the family, not freakin in the Benz
 Instead of rentin, pay for that roof on your head
 And stop pimpin in your mind knowin you a trick
 Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick
 Bitch!

 (That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli, K-Ci)
 Damn is that right?
 (That's right