C-Bo, E-40 - 40 & C-Bo lyrics

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 niggas
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



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

It's fo' oh and C-Bo, quick to blast
Break niggas like the Task, without the mask
Water, bring the noise like we on stage
Boom, break em down like a twelve-gauge

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

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

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
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(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

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 niggas
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

Hell yeah, ay
See that's what I'm sayin that shit is
Realer than a new fifty dollar bill