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bass rocks - e-40 lyrics

[hook 4x]
(“b-ss”) (“b-ss rocks” “b-ss rocks”)

[verse 1: e-40]
b-ss rocks, n-gg-; b-ss rocks, n-gg-
get your cake up; cake up, n-gg-
still in the loop like a hula hoop
still connected like a router
got a line on the powder
still got a whole lot of power
still the same m-th-f-cka you met a while ago, a real one
not a hoe, being thorough is all i know
i’m a pro at getting dough
or should i say guap
if i had to, i could cook a ki in a wok
bust my glock, my 2-2 nickel across a hater face
break his f-ckin’ jaw, knock his teeth out so he can’t taste
have him eating out a straw, for disrespecting a staple
get your car riddled, split in half like a bagel
f-ckin’ around in the yola game, gotta be careful
they’ll rob for dinero, pull up in all-black apparel
hit their target like an arrow
shoot you in your bone marrow
tear up out in a chevy souped up camaro
b–tch!

[hook 4x]
(“b-ss”) (“b-ss rocks” “b-ss rocks”)

[verse 2]
see he throws the whole unit in a big -ss gumbo pot
foam, stir, let it settle to make it lot
take it out of the oowop and let it dry
doing what i gotta do to get by
yola i supply, break it down into zips
halfs, quarters, kibbles n bits
overk!ll, extras, it’s all in the wrist
they’ll walk from cali to texas long as they get they fix
pitching no-hitters and shutouts, you get my drift
the players on plug with that
i cop from them when the drought ‘bout to hit
everybody that i know got a banger, extended clip
rather be caught with than without, some real sh-t
he got too much time on his hands
i ain’t got no time to be playin’
he too busy trippin’ off somebody else’s wealth
i’m too busy stacking dollars taller than myself
b–tch!

[hook 4x]
(“b-ss”) (“b-ss rocks” “b-ss rocks”)

[verse 3]
all money ain’t good money and every time ain’t the right time
i don’t be out here stuntin’, clumsy, looking like a plate of swidnine
i be under on the tuck, sitting soft with the seat reclined
looking out for the smirchers, the kind that pull on the side
and try to slather a player, arm out the window from the blind
hit your n-gg- at a exit, a light or a stop sign
even i was broke, you wouldn’t know it ‘cause i’m h-lla laced
i hibernate ‘til i’m up again, won’t show my face
‘cause they used to me looking a certain way, ‘bout my pay
since the ‘80s i’ve been having it my way to this day
i’m an inner-city icon from the 7’s
where they go from the shoulders and tote weapons
got that fire like a welder, banked up like a ready teller
correctional inst-tution, revenge and retribution
they’ll steal you out here, mayne, and i ain’t talkin’ ‘bout boostin’
be ‘bout it, my n-gg-, or do it movin’
b–tch!

[hook 4x]
(“b-ss”) (“b-ss rocks” “b-ss rocks”)

- e 40 lyrics

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