Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
E-40

Gasoline

 

Gasoline

(album: Breakin' News - 2003)


[E-40]
Elite alloy candy coated custom paint
Verizon wireless phone
Jacob watch with interchangeable bands and five time zones
Tryin to holla at a redbone
Smokin on some cactus
Sippin on some super duper extra strength
A buck fifty a shot louie the thirteenth
Head hard as a rock stop by the barber shop
Shoot some craps in the back then hit the block
There go the elroys
They handcuffin my boys
They fittin to take 'em to the prestink
Couldn't say they ABC's backwards
So? Shoot I can't say my ABC's backwards when I'm sober
E-Figgady a different pedigree than most of these suckers up in this industry
be trying to copy me
Trend setta, game markin decta, vendetta, big chedda, soil block protectas

[Chorus Turf Talk & Doonie]
Hey, hey-ey
Fuck rallies ride gold ones mang
Sick Wid It nigga what you claim?
My niggaz spit gasoline [x2]

[E-40]
Never low on gas
Never on an empty tank
High octane for the brain, puffin on some dank
Traffic backed up like a toilets do, bumper to bumper
Music on slap, sounding like a concert
Drink in my lap, finger on my thumper
Twist wig back, head crack
Flat line, alpine, deck
Rolla supplier, quiet as it's kept
I wanna retire but I can't, the game needs me
The game would be boring without E-Feezy
I wake up every morning to a shot of liquor
A shoebox full of herb and some grits and turkey sausage for my liver
Sellin units out the trunk of my car
And just think, I started with a pickle jar
From a sixteenth of yowder to a quarter kick of blow
To a whole thing of some of that YOU KNOW!

[Chorus Turf Talk & Doonie]
Hey, hey
Fuck rallies, ride gold ones mang
Sick wid it nigga what you claim
My niggaz spit gasoline [x2]

[E-40]
Yo, yo yo
I'm close, I'm doing the most, I flamboast
I coast, take my foot off the brake
Then I casper the friendly ghost up the interstate
Gettin neck motion, deep throat
Honey bout to choke
I got brigadels to see, marbles to make
Drop the prices from state to state like the west nile virus
Prolly gammas miralicious
Big spit, game vicious
Man on the microphigadelian foshelian
It's nothin but the forty water
Always on, uh, some unreasonable
Can't fuck wit it if it ain't equinomically um, er, uh, ta, uh, feasible
Me and my weoples stay yaypered up
Got a "Just say no to drug" bumper sticker on my truck and an American flag
So I can camouflage my image
I'm smokin on some spinach
I need to play some tennis before I go to court
The water might be finished if he don't report

[Chorus Turf Talk & Doonie]
Hey, hey
Fuck rallies ride gold ones mang
Sick wid it nigga what you claim
My niggaz spit gasoline [x4]

Gasoline! [x16]

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?