Yee (feat. Too $hort & Budda)

That's the call of my thugs

When they step up in the club they go, yee

When you hit the prison bricks

From Vallejo or the Rich' they holla, yee

You can catch me in the traffic

In the Cutlass or the Maverick holla'n, yee

If it's lookin like some static

We gon' bust them automatics like, yee

My area code grow some of the best weed in the world

My ninja we ain't no punk

They say we need to take a bath in tomato juice

Cause we always smell like skunk

Sloppy drunk, nine times out of ten, or e'ry time you see me

Bendin co'ners, in my brand new Dodge Durango Hemi

Pimpin the law up on us, Officer Smokey and Mr. Johnny Law

Always pullin me over and searchin my fuckin car

Searchin my glutteus maximus, flashlight in my drawers

Actin like some batches-es, thinkin I got raw

Doin it big, take a swig, sip a sip, twist a lid

Smoke a spliff, or a beer, push a wig, 'bout my nig

Everybody wanna talk that talk

Wanna walk that walk, wanna bark that bark

Everybody wanna pop that pop

Wanna drop that stop with a pillowtop

I get a call from Young Bop, he up out my zone

He said yo' Hillside **** Ned on his way home

I said well tell him to call me I love his ass to death

Any **** hatin we gon' take his last breath

That's the call of my thugs

When they step up in the club they go, yee

When you hit the prison bricks

From Vallejo or the Rich' they holla, yee

You can catch me in the traffic

In the Cutlass or the Maverick holla'n, yee, beotch

If it's lookin like some static

We gon' bust them automatics like, yee, beotch

It's yo' potnah from the town mayne

I see y'all doin it big, you gettin down mayne

Yeah, I fuck with the V, Richmond know me

Wherever **** ballin that's where bitches gon' be

You can go across the bridge, fuckin with a bitch

Don't matter which side, you'll be all up in some shit

Before you know it, it ain't like it used to be

Everybody got straps that shoot you or me

I give a fuck about who, I don't even know you

Whassup? Yeah, pimpin, I got my thang too

And it's cool, 'cause I know you know it

I ain't even gotta pull it, I ain't even gotta show it

Don't blow it, that's what a black man's thinkin

I'll be layin underground in a casket stinkin

If I slip, I gotta keep my poise

You hear that eight-oh-eight bumpin

Man what's all that noise?

That's the call of my thugs

When they step up in the club they go, yee

When you hit the prison bricks

From Vallejo or the Rich' they holla, yee

You can catch me in the traffic

In the Cutlass or the Maverick holla'n, yee

If it's lookin like some static

We gon' bust them automatics like, yee

Get your head busted in, I'm not your boy or your friend

Get your head busted in, I'm not your boy or your friend

You said that do that, pull dat shoot that

Now where your crew at, what'chu gon' do next?

I'm a West Coast ****, yee

I'm a East Coast ****, yee

I'm a Down South ****, yee

I'm a Midwest ****, yee

That's the call of my thugs

When they step up in the club they go, yee

When you hit the prison bricks

From Vallejo or the Rich' they holla, yee

You can catch me in the traffic

In the Cutlass or the Maverick holla'n, yee

If it's lookin like some static

We gon' bust them automatics like, yee