Yeah uh mm give it to me

Mmmmm yeah

Yeah yeah, Mm no no no no



Seems like every night

Right before I go to sleep

I say a little prayer to the Lord

That he keep me (that he keep me)

I used to be the kinda nigga

That didn't give a

Fuck about anybody

The slightest little thing would make me mad

Especially if it involved my money

And I can't tell you bout the next man

But I love pullin' up in big sedans

Wit' all my niggas in a caravan

Holla if you hear me

Now I'd love to break ya, bring you down and

take ya back again

But that would take too much time

And I gotta hit the streets again



(Hook)

And even if the sun don't shine

I'll still be hustlin'

Gotta make that money - make that money

keep it comin

If it takes all night

I can't be strugglin'

Somebody come help me can you tell me why

Is slangin' always on my mind

Must be buggin'

I guess they figured I would quite and they

could get me if they tapped my line

Don't me nothin - I still be hustlin'



Now I hate to be the one to tell ya

But I don't mind

Niggas can hate if they want to

And I'm still gonna get mine (still gonna get mine)

Yes I'll still be ridin in a SC on dubs and I a...

Won't be seen at none of the club and I a...

All your women would know who I was - and

That you wouldn't like (and that you wouldn't like)

If everybody kept they mind on gettin' they scrilla

Won't be no time to fuck with mine.

So won't be no killing

I'll just sit back and recline and smoke this Philly

And keep my fingers laced with diamonds like

Big Willie

But for now catch me on Compton Avenue

Wit' a handful of hundreds and a strap or two

Puttin' it down for niggas like they told me to

You need some candy so won't you come through

(Hook)



(Rap by E-40)

Sometimes I'm suited up

Sometimes I'm bummy, lookin' like a crook

Hair all nappy and wild - we call it the full nuk

Mashin', mobbin' and thrashin'

Woopers, horns and tweeters blastin'

Throbbin', hoggin' and doggin'

Godzilla ballin'

When it's money callin'? War-rank

Just ride your runners fool

Be 'bout your bank

Sittin' fat like chupling

All about my money, duffle bags full of scratch

Artillery fire arms and gats

Reep my mill, cap my feddy, get my bread

Hirries on my tail, but I'm tryin' for them, but they want me dead

Cuz I made it out the game without a clue or trace

Used to sell that bass

Rock cavvy candy,

Never had to stop, enemies on the block, they knew it (they knew it)

As far as I was concerned, ? man I do it

Check it out

Money schemin'

Chis Alberchuck, Chocolate Philly, Glocks Garcia Vegas

Black and Miles on the pack again (yes)

What you know about that?

TQ and E-40 Fonzarelli a.k.a. Charlie Hustle, easy

Biatch