Tone Bone - What's My Name lyrics

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Tone Bone - What's My Name lyrics

[Hook] Tell me when to go like my name E-40 (What's my muthaf**in' name?) [Verse 1] Champion hoodie and bean cap, b-boy attire Every promoter and their partner got my name on they flyer I'm on this bubba kush right now, higher than a hiker Folk fresh back from the mountains and he got that fire Feeling good like you should, liquor in my cup Understood I'm in the hood like an ice cream truck Spin with me man, I'll hook you up Cause I could give you more bang for your buck Pro politics, property, puzzle pieces pertaining paper Proceeding profit pockets per digm prosperous promise Putting the b's in the pockets, proof in the pudding You probably think that you can but you probably shouldn't Alice Sylverstein collection watch, b*atch Don't ask me how much this muthaf**a cost You stepping off dollars for pennies I'm stepping off pennies for dollars You dealing with hoes and they periods I'm dealing with hustlers and commas [Hook] [Verse 2] My Camaro's souped up, and I ain't talking about Campbell's Speakers in the crib, and in the door panels Detachable steering wheel in case they try to steal Light you up like a candle with my spring steel Rifle for rival built for survival It's wacko and homicidal out here in the bay Pack 90's and SK's, we living the last days They calling the wrong plays, rolling over in their graves My ancestors used to be slaves I try to trust psychos, love them to d**h But they be the ones that stir up the most mess I ask them how they doing and they holler out, "Flex" Pack and air jet, like they better than the next I'm the rawest in it, I say the realest sh** Sickest flow, I ain't gon' never quit Started this independent sh** so I'mma finish it Been in it forever, for a grip, for a minute b*atch [Hook] [Verse 3] Stores, like a restaurant I don't drink to drink, I drink to get drunk I might eat the pink after I hit the blunt Dick on hard like a penis pump Cause she got a big dump Not the donk with slump, the donk I wanna hump The type to stick and plunk with junk in her trunk Hit it from the back and in the front The function was bammer but we got it cracking sh** was so quiet you could hear a spider piss on a napkin Pockets on a diet, hell naw mayne we stacking Seemed like a riot the way the music had us acting [Hook]