| Song | Dump, Bust, Blast - Clean |
| Artist | E-40 |
| Album | The Element Of Surprise |
| 作词 : Kante, Stevens | |
| Uh (uh) | |
| Come on, ai, ai boskeezy? | |
| Ai, my, my, turn it up (burps) | |
| Hey boskeezy? hey that shit right there, ay | |
| (talk to my wepolations), that shit. | |
| That's ibeen? that shit smibeen that shit ibeen? | |
| That shit smibeen, ooh (ooh) | |
| 4:15 showcasing to the max | |
| Got my truckamajig free racing causing anxiety attacks | |
| Pitch black normal tint boom bap! | |
| Fucked around and overheated my zues amp | |
| 500, oh the hoes, fuck 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 shit i'm outta sight | |
| I like to get my dick sucked in - broad daylight | |
| Acting bad on the soil acting tough | |
| Break your ass down like a 12-gauge and call yo' bluff | |
| Ignore a fool, that's what they holler | |
| Snatch his bootsy ass up by the collar | |
| Law enforcement agents got me and my dudes up under investigation | |
| We hot like jalapenos | |
| Man, how come niggas can't put their money together like philipinos? | |
| I suppose, can you bring him back? | |
| He was one of them enemies that tried to participate | |
| In swiss cheezin' my clean ass 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 shit 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 motherfucker over mathematics | |
| Haters gonna hate, but they don't count nigga 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 nigga in your town" | |
| Ass down in front of everybody | |
| Chorus: (with three overdubbed tracks of random talking) |
| zuò cí : Kante, Stevens | |
| Uh uh | |
| Come on, ai, ai boskeezy? | |
| Ai, my, my, turn it up burps | |
| Hey boskeezy? hey that shit right there, ay | |
| talk to my wepolations, that shit. | |
| That' s ibeen? that shit smibeen that shit ibeen? | |
| That shit smibeen, ooh ooh | |
| 4: 15 showcasing to the max | |
| Got my truckamajig free racing causing anxiety attacks | |
| Pitch black normal tint boom bap! | |
| Fucked around and overheated my zues amp | |
| 500, oh the hoes, fuck 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 | |
| 1800888 zippersontastic | |
| 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 shit i' m outta sight | |
| I like to get my dick sucked in broad daylight | |
| Acting bad on the soil acting tough | |
| Break your ass down like a 12gauge and call yo' bluff | |
| Ignore a fool, that' s what they holler | |
| Snatch his bootsy ass up by the collar | |
| Law enforcement agents got me and my dudes up under investigation | |
| We hot like jalapenos | |
| Man, how come niggas can' t put their money together like philipinos? | |
| I suppose, can you bring him back? | |
| He was one of them enemies that tried to participate | |
| In swiss cheezin' my clean ass 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 shit like e40 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 motherfucker over mathematics | |
| Haters gonna hate, but they don' t count nigga 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 nigga in your town" | |
| Ass down in front of everybody | |
| Chorus: with three overdubbed tracks of random talking |