409 (Little Deuce Coupe)

歌詞

(feat. E-40) [C-Bo] It's all about that, scrilla scratch, flossin a bad batch and pushin Somethin luxury when it ship the sector snack my semen Drank the diamonds, geechie dub shinin Ninety-seven sport drop Benz, gettin mine You can hate and catch the tip of the blade of my sawed A-K It's West coast mafia for the Midwest to the Bay But I'm from the Valley of Cali we specialize in cap peelers Straight thug niggaz, quick to draw like Matt Dillon Outlaws, strap in drawers, ready for war -- push up On the side of your Ford Explorer and start dumpin through the doors We realers; with so much scrilla can you hang with G's? Start uhh, who busy Jesus said [E-40] Fuck cowboy keys now I ain't never been nobody's sucker Nor have I ever been any coastal fake "He got too much too lose; he ain't gonna bust in the ring!" Out of state deputy license plates fix a ticket window tinted I could shoot to kill -- dressed up like a old man in a Bonneville Disguised, ready to chastise and dissapoint my prey Surprise, the element, apply pressure Get back at the motherfucker, snatch back at the motherfucker Bust caps at the motherfucker... motherFUCKER! One-Time up in the Valle-Jo Follow me and Bo to Sacramento Spend it on some ol high performance, Catastrophic Get some stunts, turn some tight ones, blew a head gasket [Chorus: x2] It's fo'-oh and C-Bo, quick to blast Break niggaz like the Task, without the mask Water, bring the noise like we on stage Boom, break em down like a twelve-gauge [C-Bo] Back at cha I rose, Chuck Taylors and double-oh's Young thugs, ready to protect with fo'-fo's On a mission mashin, nonstop til we cashed in All out assassins known for down and dirty and blastin On sight smashin, anything no question asked Runnin up with no mask and dumpin caps in that ass This one life we live, is to be lived without sin But I'll be damned if I die without a damn thing to give [E-40] Don't make us have to be the one to grab the gun And get to dumpin on your crew! That's what we do, check it Drop it like it's hot assume the position on the flo' butt naked Give me erything you got Or you gonna end up comin up missin and I won't regret it Still Water run deep (how deep?) Uhh, all I find all I keep, uhh Pay the price to have a sucker put on ice Got just as many Hot Ones as my nigga Spice [Chorus] [E-40] But if they, locked you up and throw way the key, what would you do E? I'd be up in that motherfucker watchin my latest video brought to you by Trass G and Trey Dogg from the California Music Channel Broadcastin Rap Show the Bay Area's own Number One network, cable station, C.M.C. (BEYOTCH!) Love letters to my wife, ba-bee I miss you This mornin I learned how to make a pair of dice out of some toilet tissue Fan mail from my fans, get up out of jail Waitin for my court ap-pail [C-Bo] Nigga pass the strap and let me blast I'm quick to get off in that ass It's Forty Water and the Loco Bitch so kiss dick and kick cask' From Sacramento down to Vallejo, on a mission about that mail We specialize in collectin pays If you come short, we dumpin facials I holds down the fort With two Magnums culture go toe to toe With any one of you bitch ass niggaz That think you can fuck with me and fo'-oh It's old school trick, new school fools they catch clips Forever money over bitch, we'll never caught snick considered licked [E-40] Hell yeah, ay See that's what I'm sayin that shit is realer than a new fifty dollar bill