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E-40 : Rappers' Ball lyrics

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 lyrics : "Rappers' Ball"

(feat. Too $hort, K-Ci)
Where them naked hoes at?

Too Scheezy!
We off the heezy fo'scheezy baby!

Off the heezy I thought you theezy!!
^!$$%z ain't havin no cheesy like us main!
They ain't havin no raveez!

Haha you know us.
Where K-Ceeezi at man? Tell him sing that %#@!.

Lace dem fools or something.

[Chorus: K-Ci]
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball

Everyday you're at the mall
Tell me is it true or false
Say that you got it all

Love the way you players ball
Claimin that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false

[Verse One: E-40, Too $hort]
I put my mack hand down ain't never been asound

I was havin b-r-e-a-d way before this rap game ^!$$% been town
Thought you theezy, for sheezy, ^!$$%z 'member
Earl, Brat, and Denell dem boys from Vallel

At every light it's automatic, BURN RUBBER
See my folkers in the traffic, WHASSUP ERB
Follow that cab it got dope in it, uhh

My potnah $hort got hoes in it

I'm always hearin rappers big ballin on they songs

I do that %#@! for real and you'll never say I'm wrong
S-500 straight sittin on twenties
TV in the dash pimpin hoes gettin money

I'm Too $hort baby been down since the eighties
For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes
Lexus, trucks, drop-Vette, Caddy

(*##$es don't call me by my name they call me daddy


[Verse Two: E-40, Too $hort]
K-Ci $hort E-40 Fonzarelli

I'll probably never have long money like Ross Perilli
But %#@! we just want a hip
Don't want the whole plate

Don't put the two on the ten, don't ever perpetrate
Like a lot of these fools I see on TV
With the Armani Chanel Versus Versacci

Why mother$#&@ers can't be broke sometimes?
Sometimes it's cool to floss
But don't buy an eighty-five thousand dollar car

Before you buy a house

They always said I couldn't rap, I just say (*##$

I guess the (*##$, made me rich
And now you wanna call me hardcore
While I be steppin out the shower on a marble floor

I paid the IRS taxes send FedEx and faxes
This industry'll is like $#&@in, fat (*##$es
All work and no play, I do it everyday

anyway cuz I gotta stay paid 40


[Verse Three: E-40, Too $hort]
We throw parties on big-ass boats, ^!$$%z wrap they paper

Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego Jamaica
Front row seats at the Ultimate Fights, shamrock and severin
Long expensive fuh-flights, up dere in the heavens

Fat $$# royalty checks, fat $$# cribs
Smokin blunts and drinkin brew on the blacony, barbecuin ribs
The more scrilla, the merrier
I represent the Ya area

I walk from Foothill and Paperscourt to Sixty-Seven MacArthur
To Freddie B house to make tapes with my potnah
Hit Arroyo Park, we had tapes for sale
Got a paper bag full of that, can't you tell
it's funky, everybody nod they head like this

I said (*##$, and everybody read my lips
I got rich, suckin up the game from the O
and even though a lot of rappers got the same kind of flow
I survived cuz I got mo', game than them
It came straight from the prostitutes, players, and pimps

It was my destiny, I came the same every time
So don't question me, I transfer the game in the rhymes

I'm not a freestyler, don't rap for free main
It's Paystyle on mine, cuz I love money main

Landrovers and Toyota, Lexuses
Six-hundred feet twelve with them big $$# motor Mercedeses
We don't be savin hoes, (*##$es be savin us
(*##$ disrespect me in my car, (*##$ best to catch the bus
I keep a briefcase full of game, while y'all be ear-hustlin
Ain't no paperback pimpin ^!$$%, we ain't strugglin


[Verse Four: Too $hort]
I'm Shorty the Pimp, I come funky
Again and again, they say when will it end?
Maybe never, cause I can still spit it

But I ain't rappin for cheese, I want meal tickets
Gotta start somewhere, and I'm past that
For the right scratch, I be the last mack
So stick yaself Pretty Tony
You tryin ta make a hit, but your %#@! sounds phony
Not like AT&T but like ET
You can't be me, so would you please see

If you can keep my name out your mouth
Cause you don't really know what the game's all about
It's bout feedin the family, not freakin in the Benz
Instead of rentin, pay for that roof on your head
And stop pimpin in your mind knowin you a trick
Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick

(That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli, K-Ci)
Damn is that right?
(That's right)

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