E-40 - Gargoyle Serenade lyrics
[E-40 - Gargoyle Serenade lyrics]
Scrapin the pavement with his knuckles
Gorilla like with it run a background check
Bet you they say he livid
He got a voice out there mayne!
He don't wear a muzzle west coast fixture
Disrespect him you in trouble
Niggarish nigga, dig that with a shovel
Broccoli in the air, gathered up in a huddle
'Bout to blast off - like a space shuttle
RealHustlersUnitecom, born in the struggle
Cain't be weak, gotta earn your keep
Gotta stay woke while everybody else asleep
Cause they dusty mayne, they dirty mayne
They'll try and sneak
Creep up on you from beind
And make yo' melon leak
Watch yo' back, and yo' front
Gotta pack the kind of guns
That hunters use to hunt
Braveheart, not a punk
It can go down at any time
Be prepared for funk
I was built for this shit
Seen cats get peeled in this shit
For either flappin they lips
Or warrin over a chick
Either that or they snitch or
Owe somebody some chips
Used to flea flick and pitch
Fucked around and got rich!
So damn focused ferocious
Man I don't know if y'all noticed
I'm tryin to bubble like sodas
It's funky like halitosis
Stanky gritty no pity
It's a killer in every city
On the ave where it's mannish
Posted up with the many
Uhh! Back from a leave of absence
Got the block pregnant
Now it's havin contractions
All boys, not girls like the Braxtons
Sellin that white like the Kardashians
On the track like a weave! Loaded as fuck
Geeked got a pint of that there oil
And a zap of broccoli
And I wish a bitch WOULD
Try to slide through I'm ready
I'ma send him back in a box and
I ain't talkin 'bout a Chevy
I'm totin somethin heavy
That'll fuck a fucker UP!
A cinnamon roll, look like a snake curled up
Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka, goes the hundred
Round drum
WOOOOOO, the amba lambs, here they come
Flatlined, folks cryin
"My baby was an angel sir!"
But little did she know that her
Lil' devil was a finagler
A robber, a thief, a stealer
Always into somethin
A peeler, runnin, from the
Po'-po' and the soil, he had it comin
BEOTCH BEOTCH!
Gorilla like with it run a background check
Bet you they say he livid
He got a voice out there mayne!
He don't wear a muzzle west coast fixture
Disrespect him you in trouble
Niggarish nigga, dig that with a shovel
Broccoli in the air, gathered up in a huddle
'Bout to blast off - like a space shuttle
RealHustlersUnitecom, born in the struggle
Cain't be weak, gotta earn your keep
Gotta stay woke while everybody else asleep
Cause they dusty mayne, they dirty mayne
They'll try and sneak
Creep up on you from beind
And make yo' melon leak
Watch yo' back, and yo' front
Gotta pack the kind of guns
That hunters use to hunt
Braveheart, not a punk
It can go down at any time
Be prepared for funk
I was built for this shit
Seen cats get peeled in this shit
For either flappin they lips
Or warrin over a chick
Either that or they snitch or
Owe somebody some chips
Used to flea flick and pitch
Fucked around and got rich!
So damn focused ferocious
Man I don't know if y'all noticed
I'm tryin to bubble like sodas
It's funky like halitosis
Stanky gritty no pity
It's a killer in every city
On the ave where it's mannish
Posted up with the many
Uhh! Back from a leave of absence
Got the block pregnant
Now it's havin contractions
All boys, not girls like the Braxtons
Sellin that white like the Kardashians
On the track like a weave! Loaded as fuck
Geeked got a pint of that there oil
And a zap of broccoli
And I wish a bitch WOULD
Try to slide through I'm ready
I'ma send him back in a box and
I ain't talkin 'bout a Chevy
I'm totin somethin heavy
That'll fuck a fucker UP!
A cinnamon roll, look like a snake curled up
Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka, goes the hundred
Round drum
WOOOOOO, the amba lambs, here they come
Flatlined, folks cryin
"My baby was an angel sir!"
But little did she know that her
Lil' devil was a finagler
A robber, a thief, a stealer
Always into somethin
A peeler, runnin, from the
Po'-po' and the soil, he had it comin
BEOTCH BEOTCH!