E-40 - Gargoyle Serenade lyrics

Scrapin the pavement with his knuckles, gorilla like with it Run a background check, bet you they say he livid He got a voice out there mayne! He don't wear a muzzle West coast fixture, disrespect him you in trouble n***arish n***a, dig that with a shovel Broccoli in the air, gathered up in a huddle 'Bout to blast off - like a space shuttle RealHustlersUnite.com, born in the struggle Cain't be weak, gotta earn your keep Gotta stay woke while everybody else asleep Cause they dusty mayne, they dirty mayne, they'll try and sneak Creep up on you from beind and make yo' melon leak Watch yo' back, and yo' front Gotta pack the kind of guns that hunters use to hunt Braveheart, not a punk It can go down at any time, be prepared for funk I was built for this sh**, seen cats get peeled in this sh** for either flappin they lips, or warrin over a chick Either that or they snitch or owe somebody some chips Used to flea flick and pitch, f**ed around and got rich! So damn focused ferocious, man I don't know if y'all noticed I'm tryin to bubble like sodas it's funky like halitosis Stanky gritty no pity, it's a k**er in every city On the ave where it's mannish, posted up with the many Uhh! Back from a leave of absence Got the block pregnant, now it's havin contractions All boys, not girls like the Braxtons Sellin that white like the Kardashians On the track like a weave! Loaded as f**, geeked Got a pint of that there oil and a zap of broccoli And I wish a b**h WOULD, try to slide through I'm ready I'ma send him back in a box and I ain't talkin 'bout a Chevy I'm totin somethin heavy, that'll f** a f**er UP! A cinnamon roll, look like a snake curled up Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka, goes the hundred round drum WOOOOOO, the amba-lambs, here they come Flatlined, folks cryin, "My baby was an angel sir!" But little did she know that her lil' devil was a finagler A robber, a thief, a stealer, always into somethin A peeler, runnin, from the po'-po' and the soil, he had it comin BEOTCH BEOTCH!!