I’m Straight lyrics

by

Xzibit


[E-40]
Sticky icky doo-hickey smokin on a spliffy mickie
Think he mixin some hash with some of that Humboldt County grass
With dis sleazy from Union City, she wanted to freak me
When I was sticky but we did it anyway
Look, drop one or three dozen nickel-plated stapler
Up under my seat, why? Robbers on my feet
Uhh, cops Elroy's po-po's wanna Glock me
Chops, Elroy's ran up in my car
I hope none of y'all ain't in there crackin on the Presedential
Under my umbrella yibbidy yackin and jaw jackin
And up in there singin a capella
Cause that ain't the way the GAME was designed
You 'posed to see that if you BLIND
Blastin, c*cked to the side, blowzin
Comin up out of the chicken spot, pimp - walkin
I'ms on my way to the pizznickin spot, ice - sparklin
Pullin out was a n-ah-n-uh-nightmare and I be bossin

Chorus: E-40

Where all my hustlers at?
Where all my rugers, where all my clap-them-gats?
Where all my shooters? Dude when you stay, pop collars
Smoke tweed, twenty-fo' hours
Where all my ballers at?
Where all my timahs, shot callers at?
Where all my grimies? It's heavy weight
Give me the money, the pus*y, the car and I'm straight
[E-40]
I pull up on the set - somebody died?
Why all the long faces - playboy, it's dry
Dry as in dry? Dry as in thirsty
Cause we ain't had no work since Thursday
Know you ain't believe us but I got it, who want it?
By the way how y'all been survivin? Shoot we been STEPPIN on it!
Uhh - cut out the middle
From here on out {*cough*} no more scribble
Fast quota, f*ck a slow nig'
n*gga my fetti's just as long as Ron Jeremy's di*k!
Eighty-one years olda, pimpin don't trip!
Who you be bumpin? E-40 and The Click!
Uhh, I see the heads know me in the wind(?)
Family where you been? The pen, get in!
Get skirrrt, vzzzzzt, bend the block
What you see two crackheads steppin over, what? A rock

Chorus

[E-40]
Gimme a, Cadillac with a black man's drank
A forty ounce, the ghetto champagne
The lap dance, thick-ass (?) like to bounce
Take off her clothes and get butt-naked, Southern girl down South
A record deal so I ain't gotta dope deal
A faithful botch, a home-cooked meal
Take, I like a (?) estate
With them long-ass fifteen minute driveways with a guard at the gate
Chorus 2X
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