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Song title: E-40 - Dusted 'n' Disgusted (feat. 2Pac And Spice 1)

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Featuring SPice 1  2Pac  Mac Mall] 
 Verse One: E 40 
 I'm really not all that sure 
 bout when things is finna mature 
 So let me find me a nigga with a grip 
 and hit his ass quick with one of them whoops 
 (What's the definition of a lick?) 
 Taking a niggaz shit 
 (Hey put that on sumthin) 
 I put that on The Click  The Click 
 Back to fuckin work one of the homies jus got dusted 
 Time to do some dirt  uhh  I never trusted 
 them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival 
 Now the town is funky, it's called survival 
 What y'all wanna do? They got us scuffled 
 (bullet high, get in your eye) if this was a fifth well I be drunk 
 I'm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me false 
 We had em eatin, shit 'posed to been squashed 
 I noticed one killa on the double dribble and set him up y'all 
 She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball 
 Thick ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker 
 Scarecrow creepin Southern bitches, aka Posie Pussyfictious 
 Verse Two: Spice-1 
 Nigga been holdin guts, but shit on hisself and a funky bill 
 Pullin out bills, frontin on material shit 
 that's when I get to killin shit (killin shit) 
 And settin 'im up and havin 'im catchin a couple of slugs 
 Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta fuck with savage thug 
 Pistol pop in they ass, see niggaz be gettin this twisted 
 It's that bitch that killed ya 
 Took all your money peeled ya 
 Seven niggaz bust in the room with AK's 
 while a nigga be puttin on his jimmy 
 All of a sudden they shoot up your Vuitton 
 before you can hit the broccoli 
 See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn't make that money 
 Left them niggaz jacked up, and the bitch she macked him 
 He's a busta, punk ass nigga, y'all know the streets 
 That's why that nigga naked layin dead in between some bloody sheets 
 It's just a part of the game he didn't feel 
 Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill 
 You don't know that hoe main that bitch can't be trusted 
 Dusted and di-motherfuckin-sgusted 
 Chorus: E-40 
 Some cold hearted shit 
 Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted 
 Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do 
 Cold hearted bitches 
 Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted 
 Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted them bustas 
 Some cold hearted shit 
 Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted 
 I never trusted them bustas 
 And it's them cold hearted bitched 
 Back to fuckin work, one of the homies jus got dusted 
 Dusted and disgusted 
 Verse Three: E-40, 2Pac 
 Let's let of some two or threes on the other side of t-uh-town 
 Draw 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 range 
 Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games 
 Droughts, out, shhh lost clientele but I will prevail 
 by sellin the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine 
 try not to steal narcotics 
 When these punk MC's and bitches be the reason why 
 the smoke be comin up out the chow, with my nigga Pac 
 Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin sick 
 I'm in my rag hittin switches I'm suspicious of these bitches 
 I keep on, calllin, but ain't nobody pickin up 
 I think she's stallin, this evil bitch is tryin ta set me up 
 Came all alone if it's on then it's on 
 Where's my motherfuckin chrome, only jealous niggaz roam 
 It's a war zone (war zone) but I'm a man so with gun in hand 
 I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the fuckin plan 
 Can't understand, but the things ain't the same 
 You could die over these bitches if you slippin in the game 
 Niggaz gang bang, but bitches gang bang too 
 Give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain 
 If you was smart figure, don't have no love in your heart nigga 
 Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted 
 Bitches can't be trusted, you know the rules 
 They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin fool 
 (These hoes out here tryin to hold a nigga's heart 
 So a nigga get his money fucked with 
 Almost in-laws) 
 Hey be proud of it when you turn these bitches upside down 
 What's gonna happen 
 (Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if 
 a bitch ridin) 
 (Yeah main, them hoes talented 
 They be fuckin with mo' MC's at Jack the Rapper) 
 (Aight fuck it, what you say Mall? 
 Ay, fuck them sheisty ass bootches, nigga) 
 Verse Four: Mac Mall, Spice-1, E-40 
 The California lifestyle that I live 
 Where the bitches is crooked and niggaz jus don't give 
 A flyin fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin on the tay-low 
 Bay Area playa, tryin ta have shit major 
 And a bitch won't save ya 
 so I ain't playin Captain Save a Hoe 
 I mob up in ya like a pro and then I'm gone 
 I'm like Sylvester Stallone, everyday is like a Cliffhanger 
 Action packed, I let the mini-mac smack that ass 
 Them hoes jacked that ass 
 Nigga woulda got smokin on that hash 
 Can't have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash 
 Cuz he's a busta, niggaz with clusters 
 Slippin in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass bitch 
 Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink) 
 You love them Bootsy bitches, can't let them pussy bitches 
 gank that ass, betta hide your cash and check her fast 
 Pump your brakes nigga, slow your roll don't go too fast 
 Cause bulletproof ain't doin no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo' 
 now, niggaz comin up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin 
 floor 
 damn, hollow points to flesh tears through the teflon vest 
 Now r-uh-rest 
 Pull a plug on a flatline over those, one nigga less 
 One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West 
 Crushin the flesh, dem bitches played a game of death 
 Look over your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it 
 I'm tryin to told ya end up dusted 
 Chorus