Mo' Mail

(E-40) Ah fuck it Ah y'all got your nigga E-40 in this motherfucker I buzz I put a step in (G-Nut) Kickin it in the Fac house motherfucker (E-40) Ay, G-Nut, Spice, Xtra-Large (G-Nut) Let em have it (Spice-1) Went out the house I think it was a Sunday Nigga was runnin with drop top drop havin a fun-day Kickin it with my niggas up on the block Talkin shit drinkin "Crooked Eye" I got the fat head rush from the chocolate Thai I'm feelin good I wanna kick it and hang out But when the drive-by hit this is the main route What the fuck is my problem nigga? I got a glock seventeen better gobble them So why should I trip, load the clip, put the joint to my lip Get the motherfuckin forty take a real ass nigga hit I'm sittin on my gat thinkin shit is cool Some niggaz roll up in an old school I ain't trippin, ay 慓' you know this nigga's face I heard the motherfuckin bass Of a sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump Musty dead bodies and a catty bump, trump Smellin up the neighborhood lyin in the bushes Somebody had mo' mail than the rest of the pushers (E-40) Yeah, I'm just a hustler Yeah, I'm just a hustler Yeah, I'm just a hustler Spice-1, you know some hoes gonna go boy Look here ay look here They got schemes and scandals out there right? When that funk is on this here Check fan, the motherfucker gotta be about As greasy as gravy in order to maintain So society is a motherfucker ain't it? Ay, whatta bout those niggas on your dick nigga? Ice spit some shit about that shit nigga (Spice-1) Get off my dick nigga get your own motherfuckers Steady mobbin gaffle the motherfuckers cause my jobbing Shootin up motherfuckers was my hobby Stop the tech-eleven on two-eleven I did a robbery Shot the mothefucker is grenades that I'll be livin Lowin the motherfuckers like a new pair of Levi's and Used to think the cops were so motherfuckin friendly Till they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his chin 慓' My homies motherfuckin head like a melon Slavery is (?) of convicted felon So dear Mr. Officer of the motherfuckin law Rodney Kind don't need a trial what was seen was what was saw You could take the niggas up out the motherfuckin ghetto But you can't take the ghetto up out the motherfuckin niggas Can't you hear the voice of the niggas comin at cha? Fuck you Mr. President I think I wanna gat ya I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the piles (E-40) I can't get enough, good, good Good shit motherfucker good shit I think I'm a little jet drunk motherfuck Ay, look here ay I'm off this Liquorice Rainall boy You understand that don't ya Huh, you feel it Ay, ay look here nigga, ay What I want you to do boy, drop that ill shit (Spice-1) I'll make this gat sing like motherfuckin Mary J. Blige And reminisce on havin a nigga's last breath when he slowly die Stang his ass in the chest with the hollow Capped him in his thr-thr-throat so he can't swallow R-a-rat t-a-tat put a buck in y'all The motherfuckin six-foot chucky dog Comin to play with the trigger of the AK Another real ass nigga from the East Bay ? W-E-L-L-T-E-P-R-O-O-F? For the niggas who kid yourself by losin your fuckin death Bloaw! Bloaw! Cap, we do it just like that Quick to put a motherfucker brains in his lap Smokin up a blunt as I reminisce Of bloody body bags a motherfucker going nutty Bloaw! Bloaw! Po' bust a knowledge route Brown, notify his family, fuck it, send his fingers home Cause the shit get major, put the? Montgomery? number upon his pager Bitch don't fuck with me I know a gang of niggas that will shoot it up with me I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers (E-40) It's the S-P-I-C-E with ya nigga E-40 (Erick Sermon) Roll in to the curb and die These motherfuckers don't understand this shit boy This shit is so damn real man Ay, nineteen ninety-tre-four-five Ay, I got one of them Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers