Текст песни E-40 f Fat Joe, Sauce Money - Charlie Hustle: BluePrint of a Self-Made
E-40 f Fat Joe, Sauce Money - Charlie Hustle: BluePrint of a Self-Made слова песни
Oooooh, E-40, get breaded, get breaded Sauce Money, get breaded Fat Joe, get breaded Oooooh, E-40, get breaded, get breaded Sauce Money, get breaded Fat Joe, get breaded[E-40]My penitentiary family`llreach `fore you make a bet, when you gonna lay in a buck?When you gon` bust these suckers upside the head with another dump?I ain`t no punk I`m like a basepipe cause I`m dopeE`rytime I touch the microphone, I come with smokePlaya potnah whatchu talkin bout? What dey lookin like?I just come off a double-album, you know that shit was tightand you right I make my drops for the club and the trunkLike a pregnant lady come with a album every eight or nine monthsSee y`all ain`t readyAt seventeen I had a hundred dollars -- eh-eh, thousandsChevy Impalas, ??, Cougars, lower-development housinWho can split it, seen it, did it, been in it, done itWhen y`all was tryin to walk it, see I was tryin to run itSmoked a lot of trees drunk (trees drunk)Locked a lot of keys in the trunk (keys in the trunk)On my way back from the sushi bar, drinkin sakiI`se diamonded down and clusters on my fingers, like LiberaceTo all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-gettersSeven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!If youse obsessed withcha wealth and itMore carats than a bunny rabbitPop yo` collar one time if you got a weed habit Get yer bread.. bounce yer head![Sauce Money]The only way I get involved if it mean more dough(uh-huh) Sauce Money, E-4-OhYou know they want em, diamonds, flaunt emTreat all my hoes like Billy Blank son and Tae-Bo on emWhattup ma, too many G`s to consume?I spit game so I can ease in your wombI know what you thinkin I`m just teasin the tombWhile I kick it with 40, take the keys to my roomLobster, shrimpin, never simpin, gangsta limpinWent from Sauce Money to big pimpinLike bell bottoms, too much flate for someFlow so hot got summer scared to comeBut everybody on the track holdin weightFive hundred thou`, that`s the golden gateFrom B-K to Oaktown, pass the smoke roundLet me find out who broke now, uh-huhThere`s love in the East and there`s love in the WestCoast to coast G`s do what you do best, just Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!To all my gettin money chicks if you love the songTell your man if he broke, he dead-ass wrong, you better Get yer bread.. bounce yer head![Fat Joe]Yeah, who wanna fuck with The Last Don?I hate you niggaz with a pass-ionFuck around and get blast onMy niggaz mad strong and they kill you quickCome out or get hit, we the shitThink I would lie to you bitch?You could die with the snitch, and buried alive in the ditchCome five with the fifth, try to slide but you slidWe the livest of clicks, Terror Squad to the death of meRemember me? The same kid that ran triz on StephanieFelony`s the minimal, enemies I pity youStep to me, c`est la vie, and I`m killin youDrillin you with holes in your chestYou opposin the bestT.S., supreme, crows on the nest[E-40]?? like what you say out here ain`t nuttin niceFor brownie points or stripes niggaz take your lifewith boxcutters, fuck a knife, just for braggin rightsLOST IN THE GAME!! Drownin sinkin holdin my breathLOST IN THE GAME!! Broke miserable starvin to deathBoom boom boom, BOOM BOOM!Crazy weebleations.. BOSS BURN BROOM!Bills, wheels, and about eleven-thousand dollars worthof counterfeit bills, marked money and sour dope dealsTo all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-gettersSeven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!If youse obsessed withcha wealth and itMore carats than a bunny rabbitPop yo` collar one time if you got a weed habit Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!