A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

E-40

"Beware of Those"

[Intro: E-40 + JT the Bigga Figga]
Hey, JT, you know what though, playboy, it's like this, dude
The n*ggas from your town, right, they ain't
You know it's gon' be some motherf*ckers
That's gon' hate tha sh*t out of yo' ass, you dig?
Yeah, that's right
I mean, they gon' hate the sh*t out yo' ass
Then again, it's gon' be some n*ggas that's gon' love the sh*t out of your ass, you dig?
I mean, you know, playa haters come in all shapes and sizes
All shapes and sizes
But then again, it's some good motherf*ckers that's got your back
That's right, that's real though
You dig, and the real motherf*ckers they there for you
Uh-huh, one love
(E-40)
We gon' sprinkle 'em on this other thang

[Verse 1: Celly Cel]
Beware of those faulty ass, mark ass n*ggas snakin' in the grass
Tryin' to take your cash cause you bubbled up too fast
The last n*gga that tried to go against the grain, I made him feel me, mayne
c*cked the Glock, put one in the chamber then I aimed
For his dome and split him like a Garcia
Vega down the middle, jumped in my car, see ya
Itchy trigger finger dumpin' on them dont-knows
Janky ass motherf*ckers, mayne, beware of those

[Verse 2: JT The Bigga Figga]
We drop bombs with stocks and bonds and make it rappable
Financial status increasing 'cause every day it's capital
But more than likely, they sure ain't real because they plastic
No money in they pockets but G-notes worth of assets
I rip shop then drop, check wops and get my proppers
We kicks it with killers that hate cops and pack they choppers
So when you see me, it ain't no need for perpetratin'
Stay the f*ck up out my face because I know you playa hatin'

[Verse 3: E-40]
Yeah, I see you, my young Frisco City comrade
Makin' these n*ggas midnad
Postin' up in the lidnabb
Pilin' up that cidnash
Champagne wishes, pus*y fallin' up out the pockets
Thick ass thoroughbred b*tches surrounded by doctors
Chocolate Betty Crockers
The n*ggas that you be thinkin' that's always out to getcha
Ain't always tryin' out to getcha
Sometimes it be them n*ggas that be witcha that's out to getcha
That's why me keeps my toast, pistolas on the side of me waist-a
Just in case these caped crusaders wanna erase me

[Interlude: E-40 + JT the Bigga Figga]
Hey, like I was saying look, ay, JT
You from Frisco, we from the V, right
We from Vallejo, we networking, this is what we do
And if you ain't got the recipe
Don't be mad if they ain't checkin' for ya
That's real!

[Verse 4: Celly Cel]
I see you sittin' on them thangs and bending the block
You better be sittin' on a Glock or you'll be riding stock
The jackers see them n*ggas clown just like I see them n*ggas
But don't be slippin' when you see me, I might be them n*ggas
With the choppers yellin', "Get out the car, n*gga"
Hit the gas and watch me blast, you ain't gon' get too far, n*gga
Don't trust nobody 'cause your closest friends will turn to foes
It's double agents in this game, I know you feel me though

[Verse 5: E-40]
You wanna take your potna's win from him, tell my why
Man, y'all was potty trained together, n*gga, knee-high
How's the f*ck you just gon' transform my neigh-where
Over some "he say, she say" sh*t, man, dude, you out there

[Verse 6: JT The Bigga Figga]
Approaching my status, feeling flavor, never saving hoes
Breakin' doors, to checkin' some figures in candy paint and Vogues
Marinatin' wit my boys from the V
We gets our paper, stacks our chips and than we strike on Z's
We wraps our ki's tight to keeps our G's right
Gotta get that money so we can be up on the next flight
Not a dab but a smidgen, play my game with precision
We dropping the bomb that'll make things come
Then they fly like some pigeons
It's goin' down, but ain't no need for extra talkin'
How many straps up in the house, you best to get to walkin'
'Cause in the '95, these n*ggas go for broke
Get up off that kamikaze in your face and end in smoke
Beware of those

[Outro: E-40 + JT the Bigga Figga]
Hey, ay, this my philosophy right here:
I feel it's enough cornbread out here for everybody
You know what I'm saying, I mean, just think about it
I mean, we—it's a gang of motherf*ckers out there
And we tryin' to change this sh*t, this the new dope game
So we gon' all get up in this rap sh*t
And get our coins rit now as we speak, get them tokens, you dig?
Tokens, yeah
You know, we networking like I say
Cel, what's happening with you, playboy? We, you dig
You laid that serious sh*t down
And you came from the heart
We all come from the heart and this is what we did
And, you know, f*ck it, you know, we
I'm in this motherf*cker, you know how I do
I'm off some motherf*ckin' sh*t
Erk & j*rk with some motherf*ckin' Snapple
This 40 Water, you know, like that
This is what we do

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2017-2019 Lyrics.lol