Lyrics Behind Gates - E-40, Ice Cube

Behind Gates

I gotta say some shit 'fore we start the single
I’m sick of motherfuckers bitin' 40 lingo
Every time I see yo' bitch ass you got a jingle
And you ain’t wrote shit, got it from my people
Your whole ego, is evil, negro, fo’rizzo, we go
Get the Desert Eagle, blast on your Regal
Your dub, no «California Love,» California slugs
From California Bloods, and Calfironia cuz
You ridin' them little itty bitty ass wheels
In the town like you might see on shoppin' carts
If I ain’t ridin' mustard or mayonnaise Zeniths and Vogues toes
Then I’m bluffin', I’m less than nothin', a constipated dude
Constantly fartin', but I’m really supposed to be, shittin' on fools
Peep — Ice Cube and E-40 doin' a track together, that’s HEAT!
Players,
it don’t get no better than this pimpin', that’s HEAT!
Two of the most grizzliest and Godzilla-ass niggas
To ever touch the mic (Touch the mic)
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
I might talk a different language but I’m not Scottish
Got more homies in jail, than I do in college
I’m a cold piece of pork, you say — slide through the park
And come back every fifteen minutes in a different car
On the strength of flamboastin' puh-uh-purposes
Smokin' burners (Burners)
Finger on my thumper (Thumper) in this concrete habitat
Never know when you just might have to, put a head on flat
Our status, is penthouses, your ass, is rent houses
We got, ten houses, can’t even, spend ours
We go, invent ours, in about, ten hours
Comin' with that mob-ass shit, it’s a hit bitch
Broke bitch, turn into a rich bitch
Every trick bitch wanna be a legit bitch
We got big ol', big gold gates
We got big ol', big gold, nickel plates (Who is it?)
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
Let me tell you, broke niggas can’t offend me
Evidently, your Bentley musta said «rent me»
I see you rollin', lookin' stolen, L.A.P.D
Is actin' just like me, they can’t believe what they see
Pull you over, it’s over, nigga, can’t be sober
Rollin' through this neighborhood, fool, nice to know ya
Fakin' like you got the bacon, with that tickin'-ass Rolex
A nigga blast to the solar plex'
My roots, Floyd Terrace projects
Players shootin' craps, pimpin', placin' side bets
Hair full of naps, pimpin', bunch of ruffnecks
Play the old tracks, mayne
Money, cars, sex, servin' cocaine
White girl, wedding dress, in the dope game
Block cleaners, hoppin' out of my Ford Excursion truck
With heaters, poppin' at all of my enemies better duck
Even though I’m makin' tapes I’m still stuck
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
Keepin' it real, two niggas from the hood makin' mill’s
Behind gates, heaven or hell, mansion or jail
It’s nothin' to have somethin', pimpin', be about your mail, UH!