be creepin while you sleep game, straight game Get up on it , straight game It's all bad, it's all bad It's all bad, it's all bad
Air High speed shot outs and shit but I loved it there 40 where you've been playa, it's been a while? Marinatin' accumulating paper pal Y'all kind of doin it
Übersetzung: E-40. Es ist alles Bad.
Don until I'm gone, I maintain You want that hip-hop real It's that hip-hop that's real Hold it down, hold it down Hip-hop that's worldwide, feel? Makaveli
hit for hit, and motherfuckers keep droppin [Chorus] [Tupac] C-Bo and D-Shot, E-40, Richie Rich [E-40] Da Bay, beitch! [Verse Three: E-40, Richie Rich
Cent:] I said I'm 'bout it, 'bout it! - I'm 'bout it, 'bout it! I push the coupey you see in books a crowd around it. Lows drop 'til they y'all like a
I gotta listen to what my gun say Can ya dig it, can ya dig it, can ya dig it? No 40, O.E., gin and juice I'm a swig it, yo But back to my drama I finally
we got done [Eve] Yo yo, E-V-E My dogz believe in me Petty thugz hide yo cake, never teasin me I show love to, all my bitches hustlin one'z, tussle wit
hard I could write a book Violent J down with the pimp daddy's [3x] Smooth plushc rides in the velvet caddy's All the way live down Jefferson Inner City Posse's
bag of weed in the pocket of my sweatshirt Bone 2 the bone 2 the bad 2 the bad 2 the bone Hit bound from the Mo-town allen fuck a 40 I drink it by the
my nigga Kool, yeah, Savas We do it big cause it's our job from here to Moscow, nigga, and beyond For all you bitch boys out there Melbeatz Yeah, she
niggas pack the heats My soldiers on the corner crushin up green meat For all the generations, and mothers ridin the trains To work for y'all crackers
jang-a-lang Nobody livin savage, e'rybody got change Even the paperboy deliver out the back of a Range It's not a game, it's a beautiful thang Imagine
man y'all ain't ready (Straight check it) Here they are the remix, let's go [Verse 1: Redhead Kingpin] It's Kingpin plus two I'm on the guestlist fam
and dealers from Tommy guns to MAC Tens it's Q.B.'s newborn killers. Verse 3: (Ruc) 96 buildings of children, guns, and bad feelings Q.B. see we rep
hair don' look like Don King Hatahs keep on hating cause them don't worry we Dem no worry we or me and timothy M.I.S.E. slimed out my body-e-e Bang bang
m 40, I'mma get all kinda checks [1 - Puff] You want us do it again? (Yeah) Cuz we can do it again (Uh huh) You want us do it again? All you gotta say
