E-40, Marty James - Rick Rock Horns lyrics
[E-40, Marty James - Rick Rock Horns lyrics]
I need mine, quick fast in a hurry, pronto
Sucker run up and get a three-piece combo
Northern California, from the slums of the V
Where a dopefiend'll kill ya for
A balloon of Khadafi
I'm on a special sauce right
Now, I'm oiled up, i'm turnt
Drankin, blankin, weeded, burnt
Bumpin my favorite rapper
Go by the name of E-4-O
He was sayin shit 20 years ago
Y'all niggas just now though
It's over they head like a flying saucer
Some of these suckers lost
Never had close encounters with the
Streets or the cops
My watch and my batteries
My rims and my tyres
My regulator, starter and my amplifier
Old school sidin on them though
Memphis mojo, adio, hoe
Woofers, tweeters, horns, slaps
Hookers, heaters, warrants, traps
I ain't gettin fed up tryin get this bread up
Ain't nobody fuckin with me
Come from Vallejo, pimps pushin tail
Triple beam scales got keys
I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really feedin these streets
Drug, smack, meth, pills, trees
Show me what you need
I just got off the phone
With my pimp partner, he pimp hoes
Say he don't want no black girls
He want some pink toes
Some pink toes? yeah, some white girls, mayne
They easy to manipulate
Persuade and play with they fuckin brain
I said, "Man you a fool
Why you do like that?"
He was like, "Feezy you know
I'm about them dollars, mayne, i'm a mack"
I gotta admit
Ever since I known him he kept a bad batch
A stable of hoes
Kinda like those in a pocket full of snacks
Man, we some Bay boys, till we dead and gone
We like to talk slick and
Sly like the Family Stone
Little one dollarnaires with big
Dreams in our eyes
Waitin for things to mature
Waitin for things to materialize
I know some niggas that been shot
In the head - and lived
I know some niggas that been shot
In the leg - and died i know some folks
They got they top split like a bagel
For snitchin and rollin over and
Tellin on folks like
I was born to sell, never snitch and tell
I keep stackin my cheese
Got folks up in jail, hell with no bail
The judge threw away them keys
Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really feedin these streets
Chip phones, laptops, bootleg DVD's
Just tell me what you need
Gotta go pick up my folks
From the Greyhound station, he 33
Said he ain't had pussy since pussy had he
He went in when he was a baby
Fresh out of Tehachapi started off in juvy
Ended up in the penitentiary
Solid to the core, solidified, y'all
Say, "40 they love you, mayne
Your name good behind them walls"
I said, "'preciate it, felly
I'm just tryina play my part
Stick to the rules and regulations the
Way that I was taught"
California raised a pit, not a or a chihuahua
Might do it or might send it
Bust your head like a piñada
If you start it I'ma end it
I got the money and the power
It's paid for, not rented
Same color as clam chowder
I got my right hand on my
Chest like I pledge allegiance
Tweekin and trippin on how fast
My heart is beatin
Sour diesel chokin and smokin and
Blowin and puffin all day, my son
Loved one, I'm loaded like a shotgun
Got goons on the corner
All through California
You know 40 Water runs deep
Half desperation, half determination
Hustlin is made of these
Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really up in these streets
Spit real game - take heed
Just tell us what you need
Sucker run up and get a three-piece combo
Northern California, from the slums of the V
Where a dopefiend'll kill ya for
A balloon of Khadafi
I'm on a special sauce right
Now, I'm oiled up, i'm turnt
Drankin, blankin, weeded, burnt
Bumpin my favorite rapper
Go by the name of E-4-O
He was sayin shit 20 years ago
Y'all niggas just now though
It's over they head like a flying saucer
Some of these suckers lost
Never had close encounters with the
Streets or the cops
My watch and my batteries
My rims and my tyres
My regulator, starter and my amplifier
Old school sidin on them though
Memphis mojo, adio, hoe
Woofers, tweeters, horns, slaps
Hookers, heaters, warrants, traps
I ain't gettin fed up tryin get this bread up
Ain't nobody fuckin with me
Come from Vallejo, pimps pushin tail
Triple beam scales got keys
I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really feedin these streets
Drug, smack, meth, pills, trees
Show me what you need
I just got off the phone
With my pimp partner, he pimp hoes
Say he don't want no black girls
He want some pink toes
Some pink toes? yeah, some white girls, mayne
They easy to manipulate
Persuade and play with they fuckin brain
I said, "Man you a fool
Why you do like that?"
He was like, "Feezy you know
I'm about them dollars, mayne, i'm a mack"
I gotta admit
Ever since I known him he kept a bad batch
A stable of hoes
Kinda like those in a pocket full of snacks
Man, we some Bay boys, till we dead and gone
We like to talk slick and
Sly like the Family Stone
Little one dollarnaires with big
Dreams in our eyes
Waitin for things to mature
Waitin for things to materialize
I know some niggas that been shot
In the head - and lived
I know some niggas that been shot
In the leg - and died i know some folks
They got they top split like a bagel
For snitchin and rollin over and
Tellin on folks like
I was born to sell, never snitch and tell
I keep stackin my cheese
Got folks up in jail, hell with no bail
The judge threw away them keys
Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really feedin these streets
Chip phones, laptops, bootleg DVD's
Just tell me what you need
Gotta go pick up my folks
From the Greyhound station, he 33
Said he ain't had pussy since pussy had he
He went in when he was a baby
Fresh out of Tehachapi started off in juvy
Ended up in the penitentiary
Solid to the core, solidified, y'all
Say, "40 they love you, mayne
Your name good behind them walls"
I said, "'preciate it, felly
I'm just tryina play my part
Stick to the rules and regulations the
Way that I was taught"
California raised a pit, not a or a chihuahua
Might do it or might send it
Bust your head like a piñada
If you start it I'ma end it
I got the money and the power
It's paid for, not rented
Same color as clam chowder
I got my right hand on my
Chest like I pledge allegiance
Tweekin and trippin on how fast
My heart is beatin
Sour diesel chokin and smokin and
Blowin and puffin all day, my son
Loved one, I'm loaded like a shotgun
Got goons on the corner
All through California
You know 40 Water runs deep
Half desperation, half determination
Hustlin is made of these
Now I know fools bark 'bout what they got
But, I'm really up in these streets
Spit real game - take heed
Just tell us what you need