Straight Fool

Lyrics

[Intro: E-40 and B-Legit] You got this! Uh, uh You got this... You Nigga, cut it out I got dutch! You got this What up, bwoy? Ah, ek, wake up Uh, uh, yo What they thought? What up, bwoy? [Verse 1: B-Legit] One stop, shot pop, block got hot Rock hot hot spot, knocks got shot Glock cock, don't stop, won't get chop My flocks, my crop, got that rock I'm coming from the gutter with this Fiends test, say "it's butter and grits" Team best when I utter the hits Zips fresh, got the dope in some shit One hit'll have you poking the bitch Blowing stick [Verse 2: E-40] Have you at your best Used to be for sex, Like X By now you're unprotect, can't even get erect Cause enough needle users flushed that heroin, that hot Kaddafi Got me on thе Gilroy, can't nobody stop me Watch me walk up to the nеxt man Give him a 30 second check in Give him a hug and tell him "man, I ain't even tryna take a bag, I got respect for your daddy, playa your mom was my mama's sahob" [Chorus: E-40] If you gon talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk Or get walked and chalked Straight dude Be about your marble rock Never talk about Bosses cope a route, you do know I let my nuts hang over my shoulder Double pot fulla baking soda Baby mama pushing yola in a baby stroller In the cut on my Motorola From here to Nova Scotia, giving orders out my Nova [Verse 3: B-Legit] Backdoor and it back at it, backstabbing again Mack bandit back cracking again FastTrack it, west off the 8 times 10s Past traffic, shoot straight of Gin, I'm all in The bomb, I came with 1-9 like Keyshawn Squeeze one, dom!, disconnect your breather Leave? Ah nah, set your check, we heathens Best breathin, please believe em Insane, ain't it, the range ain't it, can't explain it Range painted, dames fainted, lames ain't it See, the boy's as square as Urkles Circles, see I run with players, purple Gun that, run that, guns and funds up the asscrack Rise stock like Nasdaq In fact, we paper back and back with mini MACs and back And gamble stacks, remember that [Chorus: E-40] If you gon talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk Or get walked and chalked Straight dude Be about your marble rock Never talk about Bosses cope a route, you do know I let my nuts hang over my shoulder Double pot fulla baking soda Baby mama pushing yola in a baby stroller In the cut on my Motorola From here to Nova Scotia, giving orders out my Nova [Verse 4: E-40] Ooh, uh...I'm pimp mode But you can find me in the ghetto working on my low Oil stains while I'm hollerin at a broad Maxed out, Visa card, credit card fraud Smoking that grass, acting a ass, bout to flash cash Turn into somethin, from 3 or 4 blocks, the way you can hear me coming Drummed up the ass, act a nigga Plus I'm with my b-bro, that's nigga thicker A ghetto, a ghetto broad from the same soil "I love me Olive Oyl!" Crown Royal Skinny pussy be deep..."you don't fuck her no more?" "I don't fuck her no more, but we still speak" How you doing, how you doooo? Next thing you know, we got a room Stacking it up, busting all kinda nuts all over each other She underdig me and I dug her Sitting on sum Slap her dope up in without a rubber [Chorus: E-40] If you gon talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk Or get walked or chalked Straight dude Be about your marble rock Never talk about Bosses cope a route, you do know I let my nuts hang over my shoulder Double pot fulla baking soda Baby mama pushing yola in a baby stroller In the cut on my Motorola From here to Nova Scotia, giving orders out my Nova Ooh [Instrumental Break] [Outro: E-40] Ooh