Viewing Lyrics for Dump, Bust, Blast:
| | | Artist: | E-40 |
| | Album: | The Element Of Surprise | | Track: | Dump, Bust, Blast | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 28 | | | | Lyrics: | Uh (uh)
Come on, ai, ai boskeezy?
Ai, my, my, turn it up (burps)
Hey boskeezy? hey
that shit right there, ay
(talk to my wepolations), that shit.
That's ibeen? that shit
smibeen that shit ibeen?
That shit smibeen, ooh (ooh)
4:15 showcasing to the
max
Got my truckamajig free racing causing anxiety attacks
Pitch black normal tint boom
bap!
Fucked around and overheated my zues amp
500, oh the hoes, fuck a ho
These are
the thing that, uh, you need to know
Bust him open spin open the duct tape and the foil
Eat the rest and get a pot and let 'em boil
Bullet proof vest never confess keep a bucket full
of acid
1-800-888 zippers-on-tastic
Clinetel, raise 'em high raise 'em low
Out on
bail everybody hit the floor
Chorus:
Dump, bust, blast, dump, bust,
Dump, bust,
blast, dump, bust (ooh!)
Dump, bust, blast, dump, bust,
Dump, bust, (beotch!) blast
Slurp slip, deep throat shit i'm outta sight
I like to get my dick sucked in - broad
daylight
Acting bad on the soil acting tough
Break your ass down like a 12-gauge and call
yo' bluff
Ignore a fool, that's what they holler
Snatch his bootsy ass up by the
collar
Law enforcement agents got me and my dudes up under investigation
We hot like
jalapenos
Man, how come niggas can't put their money together like philipinos?
I suppose,
can you bring him back?
He was one of them enemies that tried to participate
In swiss
cheezin' my clean ass cadillac
My cadillac, my pontiac i mean
My under bucket hoopty
parked on magazines
Chorus: 2x
Check it out (check it out)
Third verse,
let's begin lets be gone
I done served more water than, uh, evian
Posted up like a
thumbtack on the boulevard serving dead
Yola, ice cream, ben and jerry (jer)
I've been
doing somethings, cigars and pinky rings
I'm a fixture up in this shit like e-40 and the
click
Paper all up under my box spring matress choppers on top of the fridge
Automatics in
the kitchen cabinets man i kill a motherfucker over mathematics
Haters gonna hate, but they
don't count nigga hustle
The dope game runs on two thing (what's that?) money and muscle
Do some gotti, fourth of july your party
Laid his "supposed to be so called hardest nigga
in your town"
Ass down in front of everybody
Chorus: (with three overdubbed
tracks of random talking) | | | |
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