E-40, Turf Talk - Sick Wid It II lyrics

[E-40, Turf Talk - Sick Wid It II lyrics]

Damn nigga, ay where Mikey at mayne?
Ay, ay Droop-E
Droop-E! You old enough to drink nigga?
Whassup cousin?
(Whassup tycoon, what's goin on?)
It's your young nephew Turkey mayne
(What is it boy? What's goin on family?)
There's a lot of shit that need
To be said big cousin
(Talk to me, I'll talk back)
First of all I'mma start by just
Sayin we can't be fucked with
And you know it! (O-o-o oh)
Got all the whole hood in this motherfucker
(the whole soil)
Sick Wid It nigga (now) been runnin this shit

Look out pimp!
Oyster Perpetual, cushion cut bezel
I'm busy I ain't even had time
To eat a fortune cookie


Since I signed with BME every promoter
And every agency in the industry
Been tryin to book me
Mackin-ass 40, what that do?
Sometimes me, always you
Man you a real-ass nigga, man you a boss
If I had yo' hand I woulda
Been done cut mine off
A cult following, hustlers they love me
Kill a tree and put a rock
In the hospital over me if you see me up in
The mountains with a lion, i ain't lyin
Nigga don't help me
My nigga help the mountain lion!
Uhh, chalupas, revenues, yaper
Thousand dollar stacks
Turn a couple of ki's into
A couple hundred racks
The main drag, the soil, the blacktop
The gravel, the D-spot, we open like IHOP

Yea mayne! These motherfuckers know!
Nigga this is big 40 Water motherfucker!
The ambassador of the Bay nigga!
Nigga we stay eatin over here motherfucker!
You niggas need to step your
Motherfuckin weight up nigga
Sick Wid It, BME motherfucker

Look out pimp!
Hit me on my chirp, I got that work
Fuck e'rybody else, I got myself on my shirt
Better hurry up and come and get
'em we got the lowest rates
I'm tellin you pimpin cause
They goin like hotcakes
Cops come and spoil it we
Flushin it down the toilet
Throw it in the battery acid
And then destroy it pay attention and learn
While I teach you how to grit and grind
Fifteen five? All the time (cool)
These square-ass rappers
They get a few bucks
Then they lose contact get out of touch
With the, with the streets
We stick to the turf like cleets
Off the leash, we thirsty we hungry we beasts
Look out, watch out, here come the jumpout
Hide your dope in your anus
And put the weed out
'Fore they beat us and choke
Us and take our funds
And shoot us with them tazer guns

You niggas'll get your
Motherfuckin head knocked
Off fuckin with us boy
Nigga we been doin this shit nigga
Niggas need to bow the fuck
Down and pay homage nigga
Niggas been stealin our shit for years 40!
Niggas afraid to talk
Around these motherfuckers, wATER!

The whole enchilada, the whole taco
Motherfucker I'm a capo!
Play with hundred round drums
Me and my u-salaam a stingy nigga
Watch every penny that I spend
Go to any hood in the world and fit right in
A young nigga, with an old soul
A busy nigga, put the President on hold
Ride Vogues, 26 inch toes
Got the inside of the laws
Smokin like broke stogs
You can find me in the mall
Buyin up all the clothes
Or in A T-L or Club 112, throwin them 'bows
Left and right arms froze
Cold like the ice from the cooler
Just left the jeweler, rose gold
Frank Mueller
I smoke big, growin weed in my garage
Police roll up, I got a cannabis card

Wait wait wait! Money power
And respect motherfucker
40 told you niggas mayne! We hongry nigga!
We eat soup with a fork
Around this bitch mayne!
Knahmean? Step your motherfuckin
Weight up nigga
You niggas pockets is touchin motherfucker
You starvin! laughter

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