E-40, Richie Rich, B-Legit - Yay Deep lyrics

Ha, ha south west riders
South west riders

Huh!
Rockin an rollin, like the car was stolen
On my way to see my weebles
Up in deep east Oakland
Smokin on some premo, in a clean ass
Coke white El Camino
Dual exhaust sparkin, park it like Reno
I ain't soft I see some hoes in Moschino
Lookin like they wanna get tossed
E-40 you be careful 'fo I tell
One of yo biggest fans do what you do all I
Listen to is you Maxwell, and Erykah Badu

When I was off on caviars, dalmation spotted
Niggas spoke on me like I wasn't nobody
Foolish as a youngsta I packed eightballs
Broke the ice, an often sold weed to stars
But hey now and they how I run my sweet
Yay Deep from the lungs to expose my heat
Like my nigga 40 waters an Legit wit the B
Niggas know fuck tha cuttie wit
The triple gold beam

Niggas from the Bay be so damn vicious
Fly to Atlanta fuck Morehouse bitches
It ain't no swishers, just zigs, an zags ho
Super bad bitches turn regular tracks hoes
We mack hoes, then sell 'em a dream
From here to California have
'em holdin my cream
I'm on a winnin team, off heen an begals
Make 'em drink 'fo a bitch nigga pay me

We slide, we slide
From south to west we ride

Now slip, slip slidin, rip, rip ridin
I hurt a mutha fucka when I bang westside
See this side be the smokes bliss side
Not the if, if was a fifth side

Well pass it to me, pass back to you
Hit the light green til I turn dark blue
I'm through need not to do what I do
Yay Deep only fuck wit a few

But, if I hit rock bottom and lose everythang
I come back up, pimp, pawn my weddin ring
Re-up, re-cop buy some yayo
Auction my shit off nigga give
'em rum an zale bEEATCH!

I'm Yay Deep, come an talk sleep, el g
In this old jeep out slangin by the oak tree
You know me the homie wit the big O dub's
And everytime you see me I be blowin it up
I'm from the land of the weed dealaz
Heat killaz heat feel the half fo the
Scratch nigga fuck that
Bounce back an make you bubble
Long as you don't double yo dribble
Campaign wit the swift hoes

I went from a, ten speed wit a backpack
To a, six-seven coupe left wit a luggage rack
To a 400 SEL
To a fresh off the show room floor V-12
I'm a timin ass tycoon from Magazine
I remember when my shit wasn't always clean
Rappin niggas
An hustlin that's my bread and butta
You niggas betta hurry up cuz
There's money in this motherfuckers

Cause, I take morphine fate
Cause, I serve mo fiends
Fuck wit bitches duct tapes to crates
Richie be the ballin bitch if
Ya snooze ya lose ride hoes like vogues
Switch up like tennis shoes
Bitches gettin one mo chance to suck dick
Hataz who be waivin they hands, duck quick
We buck shit yo gift be the four-fifth
Tough niggas play sweet, park we Yay Deep

BIAAAATCH! Fo sho! 40 waters
B-Legit and Double R, we ride
Southwest, riders, southwest riders man
You know what we do
E feeze-fozereeze, wit Z-Savage, that
Nigga, Double R, double R in the
House we ride, Richie Rich
We ride, seven-o-seven, seven-o-shnebin
Enough