E-40 - Dusted 'n' Disgusted lyrics

Verse one: e-40 I'm really not all that sure Bout when things is finna mature So let me find me a n***a with a grip And hit his a** quick with one of them whoops (what's the definition of a lick?) Taking a n***az sh** (hey put that on sumthin) I put that on the click, the click Back to f**in work one of the homies jus got dusted Time to do some dirt, uhh, i never trusted Them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival Now the town is funky, it's called survival What y'all wanna do? they got us scuffled (bullet high, get in your eye) if this was a fifth well i be drunk I'm heated, them n***az cheated, played me false We had em eatin, sh** 'posed to been squashed I noticed one k**a on the double dribble and set him up y'all She likes the monie in the middle, play tetherball Thick a** b**h, high yellow city-slicker Scarecrow creepin southern b**hes, aka posie p**yfictious Verse two: spice-1 n***a been holdin guts, but sh** on hisself and a funky bill Pullin out bills, frontin on material sh** That's when i get to k**in sh** (k**in sh**) And settin 'im up and havin 'im catchin a couple of slugs Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta f** with savage thug Pistol pop in they a**, see n***az be gettin this twisted It's that b**h that k**ed ya Took all your money peeled ya Seven n***az bust in the room with ak's While a n***a be puttin on his jimmy All of a sudden they shoot up your vuitton Before you can hit the broccoli See money-a-made that n***a, that n***a didn't make that money Left them n***az jacked up, and the b**h she macked him He's a busta, punk a** n***a, y'all know the streets That's why that n***a naked layin dead in between some bloody sheets It's just a part of the game he didn't feel b**hes will k**, f** a n***a, out his last d-uh dollar bill You don't know that hoe main that b**h can't be trusted Dusted and di-motherf**in-sgusted Chorus: e-40 Some cold hearted sh** Back to f**in work, one of the homies jus got dusted Whacha'll wanna do, whacha'll wanna do Cold hearted b**hes Back to f**in work, one of the homies jus got dusted Whacha'll wanna do, i never trusted them bustas Some cold hearted sh** Back to f**in work, one of the homies jus got dusted I never trusted them bustas And it's them cold hearted b**hed Back to f**in work, one of the homies jus got dusted Dusted and disgusted Verse three: e-40, 2pac Let's let of some two or threes on the other side of t-uh-town Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town) And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin range Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games Droughts, out, shhh lost clientele but i will prevail By sellin the broccoli dank instead of the crack c**aine Try not to steal narcotics When these punk mc's and b**hes be the reason why The smoke be comin up out the chow, with my n***a pac Dear god, can you forgive me? my future's lookin sick I'm in my rag hittin switches i'm suspicious of these b**hes I keep on, calllin, but ain't nobody pickin up I think she's stallin, this evil b**h is tryin ta set me up Came all alone if it's on then it's on Where's my motherf**in chrome, only jealous n***az roam It's a war zone (war zone) but i'm a man so with gun in hand I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the f**in plan Can't understand, but the things ain't the same You could die over these b**hes if you slippin in the game n***az gang bang, but b**hes gang bang too Give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain If you was smart figure, don't have no love in your heart n***a Any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted b**hes can't be trusted, you know the rules They underhanded, she planned it, you f**in fool (these hoes out here tryin to hold a n***a's heart So a n***a get his money f**ed with Almost in-laws) Hey be proud of it when you turn these b**hes upside down What's gonna happen (uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if A b**h ridin) (yeah main, them hoes talented They be f**in with mo' mc's at jack the rapper) (aight f** it, what you say mall? Ay, f** them sheisty a** bootches, n***a) Verse four: mac mall, spice-1, e-40 The california lifestyle that i live Where the b**hes is crooked and n***az jus don't give A flyin f**, so i stay stuck, smokin on the tay-low Bay area playa, tryin ta have sh** major And a b**h won't save ya So i ain't playin captain save a hoe I mob up in ya like a pro and then i'm gone I'm like sylvester stallone, everyday is like a cliffhanger Action packed, i let the mini-mac smack that a** Them hoes jacked that a** n***a woulda got smokin on that hash Can't have my cash, better go and take your n***a stash Cuz he's a busta, n***az with clusters Slippin in sh**, betta jack that n***a 'fore i jack his a** b**h Never was no love for the mark-a**, the lo pink (the lo pink) You love them bootsy b**hes, can't let them p**y b**hes Gank that a**, betta hide your cash and check her fast Pump your brakes n***a, slow your roll don't go too fast Cause bulletproof ain't doin no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo' Now, n***az comin up dead with they brains blew out on the f**in floor Damn, hollow points to flesh tears through the teflon vest Now r-uh-rest Pull a plug on a flatline over those, one n***a less One n***a less, from coast to coast, to the east to the west Crushin the flesh, dem b**hes played a game of d**h Look over your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it I'm tryin to told ya end up dusted Chorus