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letra de back & forth - e-40

[hook: stresmatic]
yeah
call me whip it back and forth
mister get it off the porch
i’ma hit ’em with the torch
getting money is a sport
[?] e’ry day
mama taking me back and forth to court
call me whip it back and forth
mister get it off the porch
i’ma hit ’em with the torch
getting money is a sport
[?] e’ry day
mama taking me back and forth to court

[verse 1: e-40]
uh, it ain’t gotta be over no skrilla, man
a dummy’ll k!ll ya
eat you up with the rototiller
n0body can hear ya
welcome to the mind of the fried and burnt
cali-harm-ya life, souped up and turnt
no ski mask, bare faced and all
been looking for him for years, finally seen him and saw
a chance he prob’ly never would got if it was night
there at an intersection, two active cameras at the stoplight
disobedient and hardheaded as you can see and can tell
school and education he failed, but in the streets he prevailed
his grandma used to always yell:
“slow down sonny or you gonna end up going to h-ll
and you gonna burn for eternity.”
“forever?”
“yeah, eternity.”
“man g-o-d don’t give a mother-f-ck about me!”
the mind-frame of a youngster depended on who he up under
now the choir at his funeral singing “going up yonder”

[hook: stresmatic]
call me whip it back and forth
mister get it off the porch
i’ma hit ’em with the torch
getting money is a sport
[?] e’ry day
mama taking me back and forth to court
call me whip it back and forth
mister get it off the porch
i’ma hit ’em with the torch
getting money is a sport
[?] e’ry day
mama taking me back and forth to court

[verse 2: cousin fik]
can’t n0body melt me, f-ck who never felt me
’til somebody shelf me i’m the sickest n-gga healthy
there’s nothing you can tell me, dice don’t fail me
these hoes want to nail me, you n-ggas don’t smell me
can’t stay up out of jail and he back and forth to court
seen him in downtown vallejo, be: “cousin you got a ‘port?”
i said: “brodie i don’t smoke”, he said: “it’s cool”
showed me a 40-cal torch, “lil n-gga you a fool.”
getting money be the sport, so we ball like laveranues
grown men clips yet and b-tches looking thirty-ish
everybody clean but we do suckers the dirtiest
nice with the flow, everything i spit is courteous
but still i move mean like road rage
give a n-gga that gas, he need rolaids
magazine, homie, you could get a whole page
stay up in a bad b-tch’s mouth like colgate

[verse 3: turf talk]
make a dope fiend my spokesman
give him a bump of this (i’ll take this sh-t)
get him going, he’ll be back and then he spendin’ chips (chill!)
sucker repellent, stay far from me (watch out n-gga!)
you from that area that snitch from [?] (nuttin’–ss n-gga)
.357 stainless snub
if they fire it’ll wake a n-gga’s game up
i got two p’s of green (i need a buyer)
i need a c0ke connection (’cause c0ke keep getting higher)
back, forth and forth
cookin’ in the kitchen, pitchin’- pitchin’ off the porch
milk like money, smell it through my new denim
my pants sag like my pockets got weights in ’em (d-mn!)
they got me back on my mailman federal sh-t
in a major way, [?] gang for a pinch
i got crack dreams, man i’m gon’ blow up!
ain’t no money why the lawyer gon’ show up?

- e 40

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