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letra de ain’t talkin bout nothing - e-40

[producer tag]
prozak music

[chorus: g perico]
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t

[verse 1: e-40]
uh
they ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t, they talking bullsh-t
put the rifle to your lip, longer than a pool stick
walk down to my target, empty out the cartridge
talking all that nonsense, turned his body to a carc-ss
my lil n-ggas heartless, they push the line the hardest
open a sucker up, like a can of starkist
n-ggas don’t give a f-ck and they are not my artist
line a n-gga up, but they are not my barbers
the black man, i want to see the black man having chicken
the woman is influenced by the gram, so she stripping
the other man be running it up, big money he be tripping
my left hand be arguing with my right hand when i’m whipping
choppers under the cabinets, kitchen drawers and coaches
in the broken down public houses, where nerds get no p-sses
got a glue trap for the mouses and a shovel for you snakes
what i say behind your back, i say it to your face

[verse 2: g perico]
yeah look
shh, be quiet, n-ggas stop talking so much start sliding
i’m deaf to the bullsh-t, bullsh-t, n-ggas talking bullsh-t
cali n-ggas with an fnn and a full clip
rich crip, rich g-ngb-nger, still in the hood one million dollars later
still in the hood after all the times they raided
f-cked around and ended up number one of my generation
woke up to a view of the city, 655, 50 b-tch come ride with me
i got choices, can’t hear you n-ggas voices
can’t stop a ghetto n-gga that’s focused, b-tch i’m explosive
n-gga i’m the sh-t, b-tch i’m the n-gga you’ve been tryna f-ck with
ain’t got time for n-ggas running they mouth
if you ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t, i’m out

[chorus: g perico & vince staples]
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, nig (norf side)
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, n-gga (yah, yah)
you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing, you ain’t talkin’ bout sh-t

[verse 3: vince staples]
watchu saying
watcha know about me, real stump down p
two fingers, still who bangin’
blue line station, shoot my patient friends
f-ck the enemy, tell ’em come and get at me
brown bandana, dub chipping with the sh-ts
count my stack, then i flip it then i flee
bad b-tch choosing up, hoe you know the fee
everybody wanna be somebody ’til they rich
n-ggas wanna trip, yeah pull up with the stick
pull up with the stick, pull up, pull up with the stick
slipping out the limp, now he shooting out the hip
you ain’t walking round busting, you ain’t talkin’ bout nothing
fo, i don’t need a show stole n-ggas
i’m coming with a couple skinny n-ggas from vallejo
thuggin’ with the draco, hunnids in the payroll

- e 40

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