B-Legit

B-Legit - Don't Blame It On Me lyrics

(feat. E-40)

[E-40] Youse a fool. You sound like you fin to earl

They can have all the armor but that calm doesn't harm

[Chorus One: E-40]

Double cross the game, and get yo' head to' off

Disrespect the game, ya get yo' head to' off

Your faulty bitches main? A getcha head to' off

Fuck with my riches main? And getcha head to' off, beittch!

[B-Legit]

I'm erog-enous, most dog in this

Dark brown like a clot, but now I'm saucy

Hoes toss me they number like an alley-oop

But I slam it in the trash, if she ain't got, ass and loot

Shoot, it's all mine in the nine sizzle

Pistol still fizeal fine, direct hits make em retire

I ain't no liar, I put it on my flow

Niggaz fuck around, they get they head to' off

[E-40]

What's up? They disrespect us

Them fools ain't tryin to fight no wars

You talkin about bang bang

That's the way this shit gonna go

Just let your balls hang

Don't think about just do it

Cause when you think about it

Before you know it, you blew it

I ain't got shit to lose

No mercy nigga, no sarges

Get your rowdy boys

Do it today not tomorrow

Check your inventory

Make sure you got enough ammo

It's self-explanitory

Don't let em blow out the candle, biotch!

[Chorus]

[Chorus Two: E-40]

Think about it 'fore you pop that shit

Cause if they find you witcha crew, they pack split

Don't blame it on me [x4]

[x2]

[E-40]

You came up sixteen

Interest is fast

She'll still serve everybody

for the cash

She likes to party

with her ass-lick pussy-lick

dick

Lick ass

[B-Legit]

And we some grown men, we turn trill hoe out

And all we ever did was stuck dick in her mouth

We fuck wines to the millionaires

Ball players that play, you better keep your bitch out the Bay

[E-40]

The less fortunate

The sluts, the drug abusers

Oldest profession known to mankind

is prostitution

When I make a zillion I resign

just like clockwork

But you know me I'm always a day or two late

and a dollar short

[B-Legit]

I trick a bitch that love Legit and do whatever I tell her to

From credit card scams to givin head to you

So if you breathe, know what I mean, prepare that ass

for the guillotine boss, get that ass to' off

[Chorus One]

[Chorus Two]

[B-Legit]

I got dreams of a mansion with the glass block

About a million point five in the stash box

I let the beat knock, I let the ass drop

And if a nigga run up, he get ch-uh-chopped

[E-40]

Case number two forty six, she been in an unhappy dwellin

Neighbors steady complainin, bout the dope sellin

But they ain't never been evicted, or convicted

They ain't never been subpeonaed to court, or arrested

[B-Legit]

I tried to tell em like I once told fools what's up

Fonzarelli and the Savage get they cash and loss

I'm from the coast, where we don't play that kid shit

And niggaz get they motherfuckin wig split

[E-40]

Ahhhhh I spits nothin less than hi-tech Lugz

We can buck on each other or we can put on the gloves

Don't make me mad let me know, if you want more spot

I can do this playa, get the driveshaft all off, biotch!

[Chorus One]

[Chorus Two: to fade]

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