dump, bust, blast lyrics – e-40

uh (uh)
come on, ai, ai boskeezy?
ai, my, my, turn it up (burps)
hey boskeezy? hey that sh*t right there, ay
(talk to my wepolations), that sh*t.
that’s ibeen? that sh*t smibeen that sh*t ibeen?
that sh*t smibeen, ooh (ooh)

4: 15 showcasing to the max
got my truckamajig free racing causing anxiety attacks
pitch black normal tint boom bap!
f*cked around and overheated my zues amp
500, oh the hoes, f*ck a ho
these are the thing that, uh, you need to know
bust him open spin open the duct tape and the foil
eat the rest and get a pot and let ’em boil
bullet proof vest never confess keep a bucket full of acid
1-800-888 zippers-on-tastic
clinetel, raise ’em high raise ’em low
out on bail everybody hit the floor

chorus:
dump, bust, blast, dump, bust,
dump, bust, blast, dump, bust (ooh!)
dump, bust, blast, dump, bust,
dump, bust, (beotch!) blast

slurp slip, deep throat sh*t i’m outta sight
i like to get my d*ck sucked in – broad daylight
acting bad on the soil acting tough
break your *ss down like a 12-gauge and call yo’ bluff
ignore a fool, that’s what they holler
snatch his bootsy *ss up by the collar
law enforcement agents got me and my dudes up under investigation
we hot like jalapenos
man, how come n*gg*s can’t put their money together like philipinos?
i suppose, can you bring him back?
he was one of them enemies that tried to partic*p*te
in swiss cheezin’ my clean *ss cadillac
my cadillac, my pontiac i mean
my under bucket hoopty parked on magazines

chorus: 2x

check it out (check it out)
third verse, let’s begin lets be gone
i done served more water than, uh, evian
posted up like a thumbtack on the boulevard serving dead
yola, ice cream, ben and jerry (jer)
i’ve been doing somethings, cigars and pinky rings
i’m a fixture up in this sh*t like e-40 and the click
paper all up under my box spring matress choppers on top of the fridge
automatics in the kitchen cabinets man i kill a motherf*cker over mathematics
haters gonna hate, but they don’t count n*gg* hustle
the dope game runs on two thing (what’s that?) money and muscle
do some gotti, fourth of july your party
laid his “supposed to be so called hardest n*gg* in your town”
*ss down in front of everybody

chorus: (with three overdubbed tracks of random talking)

/ e 40 lyrics