E-40 - Slummin' lyrics
[E-40 - Slummin' lyrics]
Showing up, showing out
Making my presence known
Rolling up, smoking out
In a perfect fucking zone
Fast laning and slumming
You can hear this hustler coming
'Round the block with hell knock, cutting up
Stunting
Middle finger out the sun roof, buckled up
Not loose ready to catch a fade
Ready to put up my fucking dukes
Read to squeeze and make a neck
Like this bottle of Grey Goose
I ain't never cashed a check
Just street nigga loot
Mannishness, foolery, rocking hella jewelry
Local superstar, you oughta see my car
Outta sight, up to par
Came a long way hecka far
And I owe it to my triple
Beam and my pickle jar
There's macking in my DNA
Make a bitch pay what she weight
Everyday a holiday
Born and raised up in the yay
A polished young brother, never been a sucker
A sharp hustler, flyer than a crop duster
We out here grittin 'bout gudda
It's like a holiday
Standing out on the steps where my mama stay
Walking right up to the car
Let's keep it coming we out here slummin'
Trapping and checking my traps
Collecting and counting my racks
Steadily shooting craps
Toting and packing gats
At the party double fisted
At the bar gettin' hella twisted
See that bitch right there?
That's the homie bitch
But he don't know I'm hitting it
Little gutter chick, can't get enough of it
Strung out on my dick, she like to spit on it
Act classy but really a freak nasty
She like for me to nut on her cavity
It's game involved, I'm a damn fool
I'm the nigga, a fixture
My nigga I'm the dude
I've never been a big tipper
I can be hella rude
Only thing I tip is my liquor and my brew
Boss status, smoking cabbage, living lavish
Extra mannish
Profit flipping, flipping profit
Louis sipping, hustle-holic
Making my presence known
Rolling up, smoking out
In a perfect fucking zone
Fast laning and slumming
You can hear this hustler coming
'Round the block with hell knock, cutting up
Stunting
Middle finger out the sun roof, buckled up
Not loose ready to catch a fade
Ready to put up my fucking dukes
Read to squeeze and make a neck
Like this bottle of Grey Goose
I ain't never cashed a check
Just street nigga loot
Mannishness, foolery, rocking hella jewelry
Local superstar, you oughta see my car
Outta sight, up to par
Came a long way hecka far
And I owe it to my triple
Beam and my pickle jar
There's macking in my DNA
Make a bitch pay what she weight
Everyday a holiday
Born and raised up in the yay
A polished young brother, never been a sucker
A sharp hustler, flyer than a crop duster
We out here grittin 'bout gudda
It's like a holiday
Standing out on the steps where my mama stay
Walking right up to the car
Let's keep it coming we out here slummin'
Trapping and checking my traps
Collecting and counting my racks
Steadily shooting craps
Toting and packing gats
At the party double fisted
At the bar gettin' hella twisted
See that bitch right there?
That's the homie bitch
But he don't know I'm hitting it
Little gutter chick, can't get enough of it
Strung out on my dick, she like to spit on it
Act classy but really a freak nasty
She like for me to nut on her cavity
It's game involved, I'm a damn fool
I'm the nigga, a fixture
My nigga I'm the dude
I've never been a big tipper
I can be hella rude
Only thing I tip is my liquor and my brew
Boss status, smoking cabbage, living lavish
Extra mannish
Profit flipping, flipping profit
Louis sipping, hustle-holic