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Текст песни Spice 1 - Mo Mail

Spice 1 - Mo Mail слова песни




(e-40)Ah fuck itAh yall got your nigga e-40 in this motherfuckerI buzz I put a step in(g-nut)Kickin it in the fac house motherfucker(e-40)Ay, g-nut, spice, xtra-large(g-nut)Let em have it(spice-1)Went out the house I think it was a sundayNigga was runnin with drop top drop havin a fun-dayKickin it with my niggas up on the blockTalkin shit drinkin "crooked eye"I got the fat head rush from the chocolate thaiIm feelin good I wanna kick it and hang outBut when the drive-by hit this is the main routeWhat the fuck is my problem nigga? I got a glock seventeen better gobble themSo why should I trip, load the clip, put the joint to my lipGet the motherfuckin forty take a real ass nigga hitIm sittin on my gat thinkin shit is coolSome niggaz roll up in an old schoolI aint trippin, ay g you know this niggas faceI heard the motherfuckin bassOf a sawed off shotgun, hand on the pumpMusty dead bodies and a catty bump, trumpSmellin up the neighborhood lyin in the bushesSomebody had mo mail than the rest of the pushers(e-40)Yeah, Im just a hustlerYeah, Im just a hustlerYeah, Im just a hustlerSpice-1, you know some hoes gonna go boyLook here ay look hereThey got schemes and scandals out there right? When that funk is on this hereCheck fan, the motherfucker gotta be aboutAs greasy as gravy in order to maintainSo society is a motherfucker aint it? Ay, whatta bout those niggas on your dick nigga? Ice spit some shit about that shit nigga(spice-1)Get off my dick nigga get your own motherfuckersSteady mobbin gaffle the motherfuckers cause my jobbingShootin up motherfuckers was my hobbyStop the tech-eleven on two-eleven I did a robberyShot the mothefucker is grenades that Ill be livinLowin the motherfuckers like a new pair of levis andUsed to think the cops were so motherfuckin friendlyTill they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his chin gMy homies motherfuckin head like a melonSlavery is (? ? ? ? ? ) of convicted felonSo dear mr. officer of the motherfuckin lawRodney kind dont need a trial what was seen was what was sawYou could take the niggas up out the motherfuckin ghettoBut you cant take the ghetto up out the motherfuckin niggasCant you hear the voice of the niggas comin at cha? Fuck you mr. president I think I wanna gat yaI need mo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the piles(e-40)I cant get enough, good, goodGood shit motherfucker good shitI think Im a little jet drunk motherfuckAy, look here ay Im off this liquorice rainall boyYou understand that dont yaHuh, you feel itAy, ay look here nigga, ayWhat I want you to do boy, drop that ill shit(spice-1)Ill make this gat sing like motherfuckin mary j. bligeAnd reminisce on havin a niggas last breath when he slowly dieStang his ass in the chest with the hollowCapped him in his thr-thr-throat so he cant swallowR-a-rat t-a-tat put a buck in yallThe motherfuckin six-foot chucky dogComin to play with the trigger of the akAnother real ass nigga from the east bay? w-e-l-l-t-e-p-r-o-o-f? For the niggas who kid yourself by losin your fuckin deathBloaw! bloaw!Cap, we do it just like thatQuick to put a motherfucker brains in his lapSmokin up a blunt as I reminisceOf bloody body bags a motherfucker going nuttyBloaw! bloaw!Po bust a knowledge routeBrown, notify his family, fuck it, send his fingers homeCause the shit get major, put the ? montgomery? number upon his pagerBitch dont fuck with meI know a gang of niggas that will shoot it up with meI need mo mail than the rest of the pushers(e-40)Its the s-p-i-c-e with ya nigga e-40 (erick sermon)Roll in to the curb and dieThese motherfuckers dont understand this shit boyThis shit is so damn real manAy, nineteen ninety-tre-four-fiveAy, I got one of themMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushersMo mail than the rest of the pushers

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