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letra de neva broke - e-40

pushed in the game at a young age
feel me touch me as i turn the page
a little past ten, roughly about
eleven years old trapped in a ghetto cage
my scratch is smellin sour and it’s stinkin
got a n-gg- seriously thinkin
“how can i kill this odor, and purchase me a lincoln?”
minimum wage flippin patties – nope
i’d rather f-ck around with coca-cola, yola
ice cream, candy, granola, huh
slave for men – that’s what they told me
and i’ll break you off somethin suitable
brought you a key of crack quicker than?
? recoupable
? future black and beautiful
my partners used to be plucked and ugly
hangin around them old squeegee boys
man them the motherf-ckers that have love for me
they straight cut for me
deal me, touch me, l-o-v-e
e-to-the-f-to-the-r-t-y
i spits the sh-t from the t-o-p
it’s me, the e, droppin it nuclear all the time
motherf-cker comin from the motherf-ckin mind
f-ck you n-gg-z, you think i sell my soul
but i’m way too cold, motherf-cker!

chorus: levitti

sittin in my livin room
thinkin of, a master plan
tryin to find a way out
how to stach the scratch
so i painted me a picture
of a life, to make a dream
can you feel me now
ballin outta control, ballin outta control

fresh off the showroom flo’, bought me a ninety-fo’
now i’m havin long money, like ross perot, so take
notes from a big ol’? pimp, pretty much established
livin out of hand lavish
throwin parties?
with big time folks makin big time cabbage
become a savage, get swoll by ones
twenty a drum’s established
six figure digits, just like i tell you like
i got the whole city sewed up in st-tches
your product’ll win if you gots top grade
keep, your law-yers and your bail bondsmen paid
the word on the street’s is that i done came up too fast
motherf-ckers want a piece of my soul
playa haters wanna cut my gr-ss
you don’t wanna bring your b-tch
to what type of? out of control sittin on tickets
million dollar spots, technology chops
and a motherf-cker proud fool–ssed ridiculous
straight f-ckin em up like that, throw me my strap man
? feel me
reverend would you put some blessin oil on my head
and hear me
i never sell my soul cause i’m way too cold
motherf-cker! ballin outta control

interlud: levitti

this ol’ game, kids they run
never get a second chance
so take me to this world
now there’s always time, to getcha
i guess by now you get the picture
of what i’m tryin to say
i’m ballin outta control

“n-gg-z trippin off me cause i was a young motherf-cker ballin”
“every other f-ckin day i’m tellin my sohabs oughtta quit”
“n-gg-z trippin off me cause i was a young motherf-cker ballin”
“we can get it on, we can get it on”
“n-gg-z trippin off me cause i was a young motherf-cker ballin”
“forty-water, straight lettin em know”
“even though my pocket’s fat and my belly’s bigger.
gots to come sic-sic-sic-wid-it”

throw, the whole
unit in a big -ss gumbo pot
full stir
let it settle to make it lock
horse races, trips to vegas, frequent flier
“wh-ssup you timah, when your -ss gonna retire?”
i ain’t knowin
keep tellin myself that i’ma call it quits
but i got myself
too much motherf-ckin cabbage out there runnin in the streets
lookin up out the way for the one-time
po-po penelope seriously concentratin
noided as i watch the back for all of my chemistry
cause fools be playa hatin
lucrative spots and blows, investments bonds and stocks
esquired land and crops, techno chops and glocks
cause n-gg-z be tryin to make movies
when they get all in front of these bootch -ss hoochies
i be like poppin the cap like a hungry mother
i ain’t even gon’ lie i’m to’
twoasted, looped, to’ back, souped
plastered, puked, on the get back fully recouped
f-ck these n-gg-z they think i’ll sell my soul
but i’m way too cold, motherf-cker!

- e 40

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