| Boss moves man, Chess moves man
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| Uh huh!
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| We out here getting paper, we trying to have our money
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| Pot, pills, heroin, cocaine
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| Speed, crack, crystal, the fast lane
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| Trains, boats, beaches and airplanes
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| What we sell? |
| We sell everything.
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| I’m just as hard headed as I want to be
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| Me and my entourage, my faculty
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| Crazy like the glue, promethazine and Mountain Dew
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| Sometimes I act my age, sometimes the size of my shoe
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| Right now I’m hella paid, but I used to be broke like you
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| Bankroll overweight from selling weight, wait?
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| Did you say bankroll overweight from pushing weight?
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| Did I? |
| Ignorant ass slap when I skate, slide by
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| Made a whole lotta money from pushing cake, dead right
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| I’m a whole 'nother gr’animal from those
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| Grew up with hella hoes in my clothes, your clothes?
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| Dig in those dirty clothes to come out clean, know what I mean?
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| So I hopped in the yola game and bought a beemer, a triple-beamer?
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| Didn’t have no income, but this is the outcome
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| Real life, not a sitcom
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| Hustlers up, busters down
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| Partner this the re-up, not the runaround
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| Gorilla in it, killing it
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| Making my presence felt
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| Beating they fucking ass, without the fucking belt
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| Panini a motherfucker, toast him like a patty melt
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| In an old school duster, and I’m doing it by myself
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| I got a proposition legal, not like the others
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| Lets put out bread together and build like the toll brothers
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| The banks denying modifications, foreclosures
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| Short sales, lets turn our money over
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| Invest in a couple of condos, real estate, elevate
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| A couple of years from now you gonna be thanking me, lets celebrate
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| Used to mean mug but now I smile
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| Everyday is a balladay
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| Turning heads just like a owl
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| Direct TV in my Escalade
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| I still got the keys so I’m driving it
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| If y’all keep buying it, I’mma keep supplying it
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| Deliver, distribute and whipping and selling these microphone candy bars
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| Nigga did you just say whipping and selling these microphone candy bars?
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| Yee I did
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| I got three phones, that’s why I don’t ever answer the phone
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| I got three guns, a black one, grey one and a chrome
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| Three homes, that’s prolly why I’m never home
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| Three lungs, like Michael Phelps smoke the bong
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| There’s three sides to every story: mines yours and the truth
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| Niggas lose their lives every day over a booch
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| Niggas get popped with nines and AKs and caught loose
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| Trying to get their ham and green eggs like Dr. Seuss
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| Bitch!
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| We out here getting paper, we trying to have our money |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sell Everything , by - E-40. Song from the album The Block Brochure: Welcome To The Soil 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп