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lirik lagu we don’t fuck wit’ that – the click

[verse 1: b-legit]
ya see i’m nuthin’ but a player, call me “bad news bear”
and everywhere a n-gga go you know i check a hoe there
and on my second time through, you know how i do
i get some head, eat some eggs and i’m gone by 2
i got soundcheck b-tch, the shows is at 6
so if you coming in, bring your woman-friends
i got a few dogs posted at my telly
d-shot, tap, young mugz and celly
and we gon’ try to tear the f-ckin’ roof off something
we was backstage smokin’ and some hoes was thumpin’
a b-tch got mad ’cause she didn’t get chose
reached back like a pimp and slapped the hoe
your n-gga went wild when he first seen that
pulled out a sack and rolled one fat
we was back to the tell’ ’cause we bail on them boys in blue
f-ckin’ wit this cl!ck crew
and the worst thing can happen when your out of the state
they lock a n-gga down and take away his dank
it makes me can’t thank, i gets nervous and sick
fiendin’ for a motherf-ckin’ fix

[chorus 2x: e-40]
a smokin’ we will go
puffin’ on indo
so put that bammer back
’cause we don’t f-ck wit’ that

[verse 2]
i left minnesota ’cause the spot was tired
hit louisville and the spot was fire
old school sittin’ on straight-laced kicks
reminding me of 1986
fools burnin’ rubber, f-ck some switches
n-ggas from the bay smoke it up on b-tches
filas on the gas, smash and yolk
hoes p-ssin’ out ’cause there’s too much smoke
gary, indiana, b-tch gone in a minute
i let you hit my weed and you straight up sh-tted
in your draws, guess jeans and all
and then you had nerve to give e a call
but he called back and wasn’t f-ckin’ wit you
’cause hoes down south know good voodoo
f-ck around and have your -ss sprung like eddie
period blood mixed in your spaghetti
and if i could i would roll a vega
from hillside, cali to the get low playaz
you n-ggas light it for me and i’m p-ss it to quinn
and let it out when you get to ten

[chorus 2x: e-40]
a ethyl we will go
drankin’ on some mo’
so put that weak sh-t back
’cause we don’t f-ck wit’ that

[verse 3]
i’m finally hittin’ cali after three weeks gone
done ran out of bomb and i’m glad to be home
now who on my phone, dante or brew?
i’ll be there in a minute to do what we do
see, it’s a tree that we got, ’cause we gon’ smoke
and blow big dope from young body and know
and i can’t give a f-ck if you’re drunk off swamp
i’mma give you a 5 we gon’ light the twamp
hit to the doobie, throw the sh-t in the street
somethin’ for the homies that be restin’ in peace
the sh-t won’t cease ’til i see d
i know my homie got a fat blunt for me
pineapple juice, malibu rum
151 get your d-ckhead numb
when it gets like that, you know i gots to f-ck
or maybe kickback and get my d-ckhead sucked
i won’t ask for much, just -ss and guts
and brand new speakers for my old-school cut
a big fat sack of that doja
so i can get smokin’ like i’m ‘posed to

[chorus: e-40]
hoe-hoppin we will go
smokin’ on indo
so put that bammer back
’cause we don’t f-ck wit’ that
ethyl we will go
drankin’ on some mo’
so put that weak sh-t back
’cause, uh, we don’t f-ck wit’ that, n-gga

- the click

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