| My killers don’t take out dopefiends, my killers take out factors
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| My killers ain’t even from out here dude
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| My killers some out-of-town freelancers
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| Professional henchmen with hella hot ones up under they belt
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| Broccolis up under they belt
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| A gang of solid murder beefs up under they belt
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| «Forty, there go that nigga
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| That sold you that half-a-cake last week on the set»
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| You mean that swivel that synthetic dope
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| That ripped me, that shit that was wet? |
| Yeah
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| Don’t even look over there, act like we ain’t trippin
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| The the next few days, potnah came up missin
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| See a lot of these niggas bitch up
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| And crack under pressure when it’s time to be facin
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| Get to bumpin they gums, rollin over
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| Breakin the rules and regulations
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| Boy I tell you not stickin to the script
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| Will get that jacket put on yo' ass for life
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| What jacket? |
| That snitch jacket:
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| That reliable source, that rat, that head, that mice
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| That’s why we can’t be talkin and bein all careless on these phones
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| I know technology now
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| Allows po'-po' to look inside walls and see inside homes
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| I know all I was tryin to do
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| Is buy my little daughter a brand new pair of Jordans
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| That’s important, but you gotta remember
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| To stay one step ahead of the law enforcement
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| Be sharp with yo' shit
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| Keep yo' business to yourself and don’t get sloppy
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| Talk in pig-latin keep you employees
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| Piz-osted with choppers and walkie-tizznalkies
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| Fall on yo' ass, have wisdom, use your brain
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| Auction off yo' assets nigga, sell yo' trophy, sell yo' Mustang
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| You know what that bring? |
| Ching ching
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| Playa potnah motherfucker dude that’s some mail
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| Convertible top, black on black interior, exterior
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| He gon' be worth about twelve
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| Talkin about you was savin it for your little nephew to scatter
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| Nigga don’t you know anything over 20 years old is a classic?
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| Regulation #1: keep yo' business to yo' lonesome
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| Regulation #2: make sure the product you carry is wholesome
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| Regulation #3: make yo' cheese, never eat it
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| Regulation #4: never put yo' trust in a ho
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| (The rules and regulations)
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| Chorus: E-40 (repeat 4X)
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| These are the things you need to know (The rules and regulations)
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| Uhh, you’re 'posed to, you’re 'posed to
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| Play that damn game like it’s supposed to be plinayed
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| Always keep a bucket full of battery acid
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| To throw yo' dope in just in case they raid
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| That way they can’t prosecute your residence
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| Cause you done been already got rid of all the evidence
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| Tryin to get a BUCK -- a BUCK?
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| A soup pot, a blender and a measurin cup
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| In my section eight appartment COMPLEX
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| Pissy MATTRESS, and dirty CARPETS
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| «Nephew, did you get my message?»
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| Yeah I got yo' message; |
| you told me to clean up behind myself
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| And scrape the residue up off the edges
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| «What else?» |
| Always look over my headrest and my rearview zone
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| Cause triflin be skanless and the skanless might try to follow me home
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| Never tell a motherfucker what time you gon' cop or come back through
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| Throw they ass off a bit — come back within the next day or two
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| I don’t need no cowards, just warriors on my team
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| I don’t sell coke no more dude, I sell mescaline
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| Regulation #5: when it’s a drought nigga park yo' feet
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| Regulation #6: fuck 12 in a box, hold court street
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| Regulation #7: don’t take yo' business to where you livin
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| Regulation #8: keep yo' heat but fly straight
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| (The rules and regulations)
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| BLOWED, pushin numbers on the dial-tone
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| Took a swig of my 40 but I forgot I had the cap still on
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| Look to my left and asked, honey for a light
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| She looked at me and said, baby you alright?
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| I said I’m cool, but ain’t this shit supposed to relax us?
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| Fired up a Newport, but I accidentally lit it backwards
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| For some strange reason I had a feelin
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| That that hood-ho bitch was sneaky
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| Come to find out this bitch done laced my weed and slipped me a mickey
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| Now I’m feelin sweaty.
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| Eyelids gettin heavy.
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| Stomach feelin queasy.
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| All of a sudden, now I’m slee-py
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| Woke up naked, slowly regainin my memory
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| Well where did they find you? |
| Around the corner from Applebee
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| Over there by Costco, right there off the freeway
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| Admiral Callaghan Lane, yeah! |
| Right next door to Safeway
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| Stripped me clean, got me for some G’s
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| Set me up, stole my car keys
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| Guess that’s the consequences when you sellin that D
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| Shit, next time I bet I take my drink to the bathroom with me
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| Regulation #9: checking those that get out of line
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| Regulation #10: don’t sell yo' soul if you hit the pen
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| Regulation #11: keep yo' hooptie hot and revvin
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| Regulation #12: keep enough to pay your lawyers and bail
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| (The rules and regulations) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rules & Regulations , by - E-40. Song from the album Charlie Hustle: The Blueprint of a Self-Made Millionaire, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп