Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gangsta Song, artist - E-40.
Date of issue: 24.11.2016
Song language: English
Gangsta Song |
I’m cut from leather not polyester |
My cheddar long like tape measures |
Stay with a Heckler and Koch protector, 9 mm behead ya |
Charge your bitch like a Tesla or should I say bill collector? |
Got more gold than a treasures, I’m a monster like Uncle Fester |
When it comes to my family, I go back to pushin' that candy |
That booger suger; |
that yayo |
Or the broccoli, spinach or kale |
On the front propeller |
Whether Hillside or South Vallejo |
Never rollover, or tell, do my time, go to jail |
Showin', improvin' and |
We never losin', we gamed up, never lamed up |
Bitches be lovin' the way a player move |
I’m fired up, like a firetruck |
Like a barber shop, I line ya up, catch a fade, no hair cut |
You could run up and get done up |
Get a check up, from the neck up |
This ain’t no ordinary gangsta song, song |
But never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
This ain’t no gangsta song for you to sing along |
So never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
Real nigga said, Glock .40 on my waist, you could get that |
West side, west side, you could rep that |
If I got a little problem, who to put back |
West side, west side, nigga this that gangsta song, song |
West side, west side, nigga this that gangsta song, song |
So never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
I’m a top hat, a staple, tycoon, a factor; |
a pillar |
Like Getty’s, I’m in the picture, bitch, I’m a boss, I’m a fixture |
I can tell you who real and who phony |
Who counterfeit, who a mark |
And I got a black belt in grittin' |
A purple heart in street smarts |
Me, my fan base, thicker than thieves |
We sick With It, with no disease |
I’m a OG in the game and I’m havin' my grilled cheese |
You could tell by the way my diamonds be shinin' when I say cheese |
First rapper on wax to ever say, «fo sheez» |
Fetty longer than the neck on a flamingo |
It’s more then just my raps and my lingo |
And you can find me in Reno, up in the Peppermill Casino |
You fuckin' with the original, gas nova instrumental |
99 BPM tempo, trunk throbbin' slappin' tremendo |
This ain’t no ordinary gangsta song, song |
But never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
This ain’t no gangsta song for you to sing along |
So never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
Real niggas up, Glock .40 on my waist, you could get that |
West side, west side, you gon' rep that |
If I got a little problem, who to put back |
West side, west side, nigga this that |
They say it’s all about the ends, it’s the day of the end |
You really got fiends when you think you got friends |
There’s no «I» in team, but there’s an «I» in win |
Without the «N» it’s still we, game changers at the end |
Yup, no joystick needed |
Studied the game system and I was forced to beat it |
Never was automatic 'cause I did it manual |
You need to learn to take instructions before you read it |
This ain’t no gangsta song, song |
But never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
This ain’t no gangsta song for you to sing along |
So never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
Real niggas said, Glock .40 on my waist, you could get that |
West side, west side, you gon' rep that |
If I got a little problem, who to put back |
West side, west side, nigga this that gangsta song, song |
West side, west side, nigga this that gangsta song, song |
So never get it twisted, you fuckin' with the original, the original |
They say it’s all about the ends, at the day of the end |
You really got fiends when you think you got friends |
There’s no ''I'' in team but there’s an ''I''' in when |
Without the end it’s still the we, game changes at the end |
Yup no joystick needed, studied the game system |
And I was forced to beat it, nothing’s was automatic |
'cause I did it manual, you need to learn to take instructions Before you read |
it, this ain’t no — |