C-Bo

C-Bo - 40 &; C-Bo lyrics

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(feat. E-40)



[C-Bo]

It's all about that, scrilla scratch, flossin a bad batch and pushin

somethin luxury when it ship the sector snack my semen

Drank the diamonds, geechie dub shinin

Ninety-seven sport drop Benz, gettin mine

You can hate and catch the tip of the blade of my sawed A-K

It's West coast mafia for the Midwest to the Bay

But I'm from the Valley of Cali we specialize in cap peelers

Straight thug niggaz, quick to draw like Matt Dillon

Outlaws, strap in drawers, ready for war -- push up

on the side of your Ford Explorer and start dumpin through the doors

We realers; with so much scrilla can you hang with G's?

Start uhh, who busy Jesus said



[E-40]

Fuck cowboy keys now I ain't never been nobody's sucker

Nor have I ever been any coastal fake

"He got too much too lose; he ain't gonna bust in the ring!"

Out of state deputy license plates fix a ticket window tinted

I could shoot to kill -- dressed up like a old man in a Bonneville

Disguised, ready to chastise and dissapoint my prey

Surprise, the element, apply pressure

Get back at the motherfucker, snatch back at the motherfucker

Bust caps at the motherfucker... motherFUCKER!

One-Time up in the Valle-Jo

Follow me and Bo to Sacramento

Spend it on some ol high performance, Catastrophic

Get some stunts, turn some tight ones, blew a head gasket



[Chorus: x2]



It's fo'-oh and C-Bo, quick to blast

Break niggaz like the Task, without the mask

Water, bring the noise like we on stage

Boom, break em down like a twelve-gauge



[C-Bo]

Back at cha I rose, Chuck Taylors and double-oh's

Young thugs, ready to protect with fo'-fo's

On a mission mashin, nonstop til we cashed in

All out assassins known for down and dirty and blastin

on sight smashin, anything no question asked

Runnin up with no mask and dumpin caps in that ass

This one life we live, is to be lived without sin

But I'll be damned if I die without a damn thing to give



[E-40]

Don't make us have to be the one to grab the gun

And get to dumpin on your crew!  That's what we do, check it

Drop it like it's hot assume the position on the flo' butt naked

Give me erything you got

or you gonna end up comin up missin and I won't regret it

Still Water run deep (how deep?)

Uhh, all I find all I keep, uhh

Pay the price to have a sucker put on ice

Got just as many Hot Ones as my nigga Spice



[Chorus]



[E-40]

But if they, locked you up and throw way the key, what would you do E?

I'd be up in that motherfucker watchin my latest video brought to you by

Trass G and Trey Dogg from the California Music Channel Broadcastin

Rap Show the Bay Area's own Number One network, cable station, C.M.C.

(BEYOTCH!) Love letters to my wife, ba-bee I miss you

This mornin I learned how to make a pair of dice out of some toilet tissue

Fan mail from my fans, get up out of jail

Waitin for my court ap-pail



[C-Bo]

Nigga pass the strap and let me blast

I'm quick to get off in that ass

It's Forty Water and the Loco Bitch so kiss dick and kick cask'

from Sacramento down to Vallejo, on a mission about that mail

We specialize in collectin pays

if you come short, we dumpin facials I holds down the fort

with two Magnums culture go toe to toe

with any one of you bitch ass niggaz

that think you can fuck with me and fo'-oh

It's old school trick, new school fools they catch clips

Forever money over bitch, we'll never caught snick considered licked



[E-40]

Hell yeah, ay

See that's what I'm sayin that shit is realer than a new fifty dollar bill
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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