E-40 - Memory Lane - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Hook x2] Rolex on my left hand, they blowing up my beeper (beeper) Fuck the middle man, we got the joog for cheaper (cheaper) Ballin ass niggas got a choke hold on the game (on the game) Let me take you down memory lane (memory lane) [Verse 1: E-40] From pushin bags of goop in the rain Rockin up nostril dust Me and my squad, my gang Ain't never been no powder puff Used to go to Puff-n-Stuffin the O-A-K In a rental Lucky's or Safeway For supplies and utensils But that's in the past, I'm havin my cash, rappin on instrumentals I wanted to be number one Not number 2 like the pencil If it wasn't for my pen, I'd be in the pen You can't know where you going if you don't know where you've been Always been low key ADD, I couldn't sit still I move fast It was impossible for a nigga like me to sit on my fuckin ass I had to get that cash Make my money pile Build up my brand (what else?) And boost up my profile Made it out the game Smellin' like a rose From the bottom to the top But I'm steppin on people's toes Blast off , higher than the moon Been a hustler, since I came out the womb (biach!) [Hook:] [Verse 2: Andre Nickatina] Man I take you way back, to tick tocks and two Jacks and New Jack's "Who Dat" Man got the goin on the cutty And blowin up you beeper bitch, just to get my money Then hit the state fair with about 6 or 7 buddies You stay inside on task force Tuesdays So what you don't sell dope, don't make this April Fools Day This is the town of bedrock and cook rocks and new gats and who dat They got a lock on the crack sack Then baby girl starts screamin, where the Macs at As soon as they came out, the broke bitch steps back The fat laces in Adidas was religion And Las Vegas nights taught us all about sinnin' I let the weed burn, as I let the wheels turn Gotta live well, groomed straight to the orbit room Nobody there had job applications Its three o'clock and gotta hit Nation's, memory lane [Hook] [Verse 3: E-40] (oooahh) I had a grenada, Disha had a mustang, Beela had a caddy We was young in the game Street niggas, young and ambitious Determined to win, from start to finish It's the drought season, way too vicious Call me on the under mayne, hollin' at bitches Haters didn't like it but they had to respect it They quit the first family and rap to get a gold Lexus Talk hurricane, but you can call me slur-a-cane "Sprinkle Me" mayne "Captain Save a Hoe" mayne! [Verse 4: Andre Nickatina] Man I was in line when Scarface, hit the big screen And if the dope was that good the people call it ice cream You got paid off a pipe dream And then first pair of Michael Jordan's, first hit the crime scene You sat low when your team jack and waitin did I forget to mention yo, they jack them for their gold Dayton's Basketball we watch Gary Peyton It's when drug dealers really sold dope, wasn't no fakin We wore rings like straight Jamaican's And yo the rap game was just getting started, for the straight takin I reminisce yeah, but no pain Cuz in the fast lane, the slow lane, the whole thang is memory lane [Hook]
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