E-40 - Dusted 'n' Disgusted Lyrics
Verse one: e-40Im really not all that sureBout when things is finna matureSo let me find me a nigga with a gripAnd hit his ass quick with one of them whoops(whats the definition of a lick? )Taking a niggaz shit(hey put that on sumthin)I put that on the click, the clickBack to *****in work one of the homies jus got dustedTime to do some dirt, uhh, I never trustedThem bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrivalNow the town is funky, its called survivalWhat yall wanna do? they got us scuffled(bullet high, get in your eye) if this was a fifth well I be drunkIm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me falseWe had em eatin, shit posed to been squashedI noticed one killa on the double dribble and set him up yallShe likes the monie in the middle, play tetherballThick ass *****, high yellow city-slickerScarecrow creepin southern *****es, aka posie *****fictiousVerse two: spice-1Nigga been holdin guts, but shit on hisself and a funky billPullin out bills, frontin on material shitThats when I get to killin shit (killin shit)And settin im up and havin im catchin a couple of slugsSl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta ***** with savage thugPistol pop in they ass, see niggaz be gettin this twistedIts that ***** that killed yaTook all your money peeled yaSeven niggaz bust in the room with aksWhile a nigga be puttin on his jimmyAll of a sudden they shoot up your vuittonBefore you can hit the broccoliSee money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didnt make that moneyLeft them niggaz jacked up, and the ***** she macked himHes a busta, punk ass nigga, yall know the streetsThats why that nigga ***** layin dead in between some bloody sheetsIts just a part of the game he didnt feel*****es will kill, ***** a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar billYou dont know that hoe main that ***** cant be trustedDusted and di-mother*****in-sgustedChorus: e-40Some cold hearted shitBack to *****in work, one of the homies jus got dustedWhachall wanna do, whachall wanna doCold hearted *****esBack to *****in work, one of the homies jus got dustedWhachall wanna do, I never trusted them bustasSome cold hearted shitBack to *****in work, one of the homies jus got dustedI never trusted them bustasAnd its them cold hearted *****edBack to *****in work, one of the homies jus got dustedDusted and disgustedVerse three: e-40, 2pacLets let of some two or threes on the other side of t-uh-townDraw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town)And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin rangeRevenge on the r-uh-rebound, war gamesDroughts, out, shhh lost clientele but I will prevailBy sellin the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaineTry not to steal narcoticsWhen these punk mcs and *****es be the reason whyThe smoke be comin up out the chow, with my nigga pacDear god, can you forgive me? my futures lookin sickIm in my rag hittin switches Im suspicious of these *****esI keep on, calllin, but aint nobody pickin upI think shes stallin, this evil ***** is tryin ta set me upCame all alone if its on then its onWheres my mother*****in chrome, only jealous niggaz roamIts a war zone (war zone) but Im a man so with gun in handIm on my way to see this hoe you know the *****in planCant understand, but the things aint the sameYou could die over these *****es if you slippin in the gameNiggaz gang bang, but *****es gang bang tooGive up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brainIf you was smart figure, dont have no love in your heart niggaAny complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted*****es cant be trusted, you know the rulesThey underhanded, she planned it, you *****in fool(these hoes out here tryin to hold a niggas heartSo a nigga get his money *****ed withAlmost in-laws)Hey be proud of it when you turn these *****es upside downWhats gonna happen(uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo ifA ***** ridin)(yeah main, them hoes talentedThey be *****in with mo mcs at jack the rapper)(aight ***** it, what you say mall?Ay, ***** them sheisty ass bootches, nigga)Verse four: mac mall, spice-1, e-40The california lifestyle that I liveWhere the *****es is crooked and niggaz jus dont giveA flyin *****, so I stay stuck, smokin on the tay-lowBay area playa, tryin ta have shit majorAnd a ***** wont save yaSo I aint playin captain save a hoeI mob up in ya like a pro and then Im goneIm like sylvester stallone, everyday is like a cliffhangerAction packed, I let the mini-mac smack that assThem hoes jacked that assNigga woulda got smokin on that hashCant have my cash, better go and take your nigga stashCuz hes a busta, niggaz with clustersSlippin in shit, betta jack that nigga fore I jack his ass *****Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink)You love them bootsy *****es, cant let them ***** *****esGank that ass, betta hide your cash and check her fastPump your brakes nigga, slow your roll dont go too fastCause bulletproof aint doin no good no mo no mo no mo no moNow, niggaz comin up dead with they brains blew out on the *****in floorDamn, hollow points to flesh tears through the teflon vestNow r-uh-restPull a plug on a flatline over those, one nigga lessOne nigga less, from coast to coast, to the east to the westCrushin the flesh, dem *****es played a game of deathLook over your shoulder watch your back dont even trust itIm tryin to told ya end up dustedChorus
