| Whas happenin, whas happenin?
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| You got to love this yere nigguh
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| My boys, my Hot Boys
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| Juve and ??
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| Bout to lace this game nigga
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| Do it the way we do it with E-4−0 Charlie Hustle
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| Look, I went from rags to riches, stank hoes to bad bitches
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| Stealin niggaz cars to TV’s in Expeditions
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| Thuggin is how I play it everyday all day
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| I keep it all the way real I can’t see it no other way
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| I represent mines, Hot Boys
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| Slip up my whole click rides, get shot boy
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| That’s how it go; |
| we straight do or die — we checkmate holdin niggaz
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| Then come where yo’momma lay down and kick in the do’nigga
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| (Juvenile! Juvenile! Juvenile!)
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| Let’s get this shit cracklin
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| My probation officer’s gonna know what happened
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| Stay out the way I’m H-O-T and bout that action
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| Hooded up with dem slugs and face-maskin, camouflage fashion
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| I’m all about that luxury (luxury) — I’m also bout
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| puttin 50 in yo’head boy if you thinkin bout fuckin me
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| I’ma be here fo’a minute (what else?) you gotta respect it (uh-huh)
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| There’s a lot of niggaz out here gettin killed to accept it BEYOTCH!
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| Chorus: E-40 and Hot Boys (repeat 2X)
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| Freezer burn platinum on my pinkie (LOOK AT ME)
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| Squattin twenty inch Twinkies (LOOK AT ME)
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| I’m like that! |
| It’s like that! |
| WHAT?
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| I’m like that! |
| It’s like that! |
| (LOOK AT ME)
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| Charlie Hustle on it in the fast lane, drivin slow
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| with a case of tall cans and some broccoli and a bad-ass hoe
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| Squattin four times ga-uh gold Zenith wides and vogues
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| Bout snuffin down, right next to me, is the call from the frogs
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| Uhh — sound system on bloo-blam-blam
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| Puffin on the doobie almost grubbed, dang it burnt in my lap
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| Smokin trees with the window up (windows up)
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| Traffic backed up, middle finger up I don’t associate or surround myself with C.I.'s
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| Confidential Informants snitches affadavits stool pigeons
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| Marks simple Simon sucker sap simps I be kickin it real tough
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| with the, P.I.'s, hustlers, tycoons
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| Gangsters killers that might not even look like
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| with trophies up under they shelf, sky ballers, all kind of Benzes
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| Player type individuals, thugged out times a thousand
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| Those nigguh-ish niggaroles lieutenants bosses, gazillionaires
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| New millenium wars high rollers real as hoodlums thugs
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| House parties strip joints gamblin shacks and hole in the wall clubs
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| BEYOTCH!
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| Man, it’s like neighborhood shit with a gangster bitch
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| So get yo’paper straight nigga and go and buy some shit
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| TV’s inside when I ride bitch
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| And I’ma hide these hoes behind limo tints
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| Fulfill my dreams I’m a rich bitch
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| And when I hit yo’hood I’ma blind a bitch
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| Shine, tape sellin got me buyin shit
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| Dyin? |
| Gon’be here past ninety-nine, slick
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| Rewind, these hoes back to time slick
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| So nigga slap that bitch, bat that batch
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| Kick her in the ass and tell that hoe Hot Boy in this bitch
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| So nigga fuck that bitch, tell her suck yo’dick
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| Now, now
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| Here come the youngest, Wayne, you can call me Weezy
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| Flyin up the interstate in a Lamborghini
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| Police right behind me, I’m drivin too fast
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| I pull over on the grass, they want my autograph
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| I flipped off ki’s, I get my G’s
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| I spit my 3's if you twist my cheese
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| I’m duckin white sheets and I avoid the Feds
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| If you think that you can stop us — boi go auhead
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| BEYOTCH!
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| E-Feezy and the HB’s in this motherfucker man (the Hot Boys)
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| Juvenile (Bosco) you heard about me The B.G. |
| (uh-huh) the number one stun’na (uh-huh, uh-huh)
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| Baby Thirty-Two Gold ya heard me?
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| The Bay Area, and the U-P-T (uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh)
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| We connected nigga, you gotta respect it It’s off the heezy
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| Uhh, uhh (what, BEYOTCH!) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Look at Me (feat. Lil Wayne, Baby, Juvenile & B.G.) , by - E-40. Song from the album Charlie Hustle: The Blueprint of a Self-Made Millionaire, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп