E-40 - Ring It Lyrics
(forty fonzarellis answering machine)Aight, whats really? you hit my lifer numberThis sick wid it/jive recordsLeave your message at the beep *beep*Hah! mmmhmmm. yeah, uhh... on my pager!What you say? oh yeah. kick that shit then nigga!Verse one: keek tha sneak, e-40, spice-1Higher than a bird, off that herb, in the o-a-kOff on perv, parked on curb, rollin up a vayLicked it three times, laced it with the alizeAbout twomp a day, baby hit me frequent-lay!Sneak, and forty, from chocolate short-ay, we beenAll prepared, cause my nights is no day, the broad sayI last! cause you six monthsBut I say, she pullin a gang of major stuntsBust, bust niggaz, consequences when youre doin the do***** around and get caught up in a catch twenty-twoIn the area! dirt and dustWhere the yah! b.a. plusBut aint yo sista suga-t? (suga-t)Aint you the one that say sprinkle me (sprinkle me)I loves me some forty-ridahI seen you up in 2pacs video poppin your collarI play this playa shit like bugs bunnyAint no cartoon figure nigga I makes money, aint nuttin funnyIf youre ever in some funk, call your potnah on the cellAnd leave one-eighty-seven, at the end of the numberB-uh-benzy on washington, on the cellular phoneYou could tell that the easy bay was his homeMy people goin off like a high school buildAnd all my money in stacks, and all my pockets on swellM-uh-mobbin like a playa, but Im still a g doePager goin off like c-3poTime for the hurricane, e said wordI put a nigga on his back, ***** what you heardChorus: repeat 2xIf its major, hit me on my pagerRang it, ring it, rang it, ring it, ring my telephone, ring my telephoneVerse two: e-40, harmI be so rebel-yalousWhen Im talkin on my phone-telyalousYou can have my baitch, but I maintainI chop it up as a loss and charge it to the gameShe said you must be playin some kind of phone tagCause erytime I hit you, you dont hit me backWhy is dat? cause youre hella hard to get in contact withThought you thought, was killin big girl was crackin on some crabsSix oclock, the girl said thats my crib be at the west plusDue to go, left me at home be leavin my ass up in the living room all aloneAnd I be starvin rubbin my monkey fiendin for some donkey kongNow youre talkin, lets get the show on the roadI know youre tired of barkin, you need to hop on my loadSo we can stab out, strike rock and arroyo parkAt the top of hill, so I can check your oilI said ah one to the two ah two to two threeTell me why your baby momma keep on pagin meI didnt give the hoe the number, so why does she callShe says she wanna do me, and all of yallBut Im like that nigga on the mack, I dont want the honeyI want the money some of you niggaz is funny style and meanwhileIm sellin my piece to these tricks cause its the paperchaseLaced with game, see Im livin in the hustlers dreamCall up a player if its majorSpecially if its scrilla nigga hit me on my pagerChorusVerse three: sneak, e-40Rang it, baby gimme a callMy name youre screamin, how I be hittin them wallsYou got me tinglin, how you be workin them drawersWith a kiss I make em all say this, yeah thats rawI glance your cut, bass we uhh, big cheeksWith a blast headin straight for the nut, big a&hGot some *****es all in the cut, its that seasonDrop my number to the hoe to hit me upYo, youre nine-one-oneing me to death, whats all that foGot my williams and fillin my pager and pager on the overfloWhats happenin with all that old bullshitIs it really all that damn seriousYoure draining the hell out of my batteryGot your partner thinkin curiousCause in the y-e-a a-r-e-a the game aint constipatedBuckin around in the golden state where the game originatedFools be scandalous they used to be squares be turnin viciousHit me on pager, hit me if its majorChorus 2x
