E-40 - Get Chopped lyrics

[Intro: E-40] Game must be focused upon...game If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin' (What you say?) If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin' Game (Then spit it) [E-40] A n***a spent his last to quadruple his cash Hopin' that the plane wouldn't crash Outsmarted the task by teachin' they a** Bouts the other side of the gra**, ugh I spits the truth from the soil, untold See 3-40 in ya pager, that's the code Hit me back even though he's busy off the hook Plus the hurricane ethyl got him too took Drug advancements, penitentiary chances Circumstances, gigantic a** leave enhancements Keep on mashin' though, don't quit Game Related, comin' from the f**in' Click [D-Shot] Now that I made the major leagues Pushin' big ki's n***as from my block ain't tryin' to see me I came up too fast for them punks hoes Now them fools wants to kick in my door Bringin' over the change if you think that you can f** with this Bam, pops to the dome b**h Motherf**ers hate to see a true n***a flamboast Bringin' in more net than gross [Hook] They wants to kick in my spot Boom, get chopped They wanna take me for what I got Boom, get chopped They wants to strike through my block Boom, get chopped But I'm up on they plot Boom, get chopped [E-40] b**h, feelin' evil like Knievel lookin' for a wrench Gotta a couple screws loose like the grinch Problem child ain't got no problem with disposin' Lose me temper, lose me cool but on the same token He ain't gon' bust a grape, E-40, mayne, that n***a fakin' You fail-ize I'll have ya whole family wind taken Paper hatin' haters get put in they place Crevice achin', back and get scratched in the face [D-Shot] n***as from the other side of town be talkin' big sh** Actin' like they wanna f** with my Click But the sh** ain't changed f** the rap game Hillside n***a on a mission to proclaim My motherf**in' spot in society Southside n***as just jealous, they doubt me Punk n***as lookin' for a reason To kick off some ruckus to start the funk season [Hook] [D-Shot] I f**s b**h after b**h, n***a, get rich Don't you know this The Click? V the hundred SL's what a n***a straight smash One hundred thousand in cash [E-40] Follow the leader, trip off how the game gets deeper The more I teach 'em, the dumber I get Dizzy-izzy, hey Shot, these tardy n***as k** me But what they don't know is I fly their cerebral cortex like a Frisbee f** 'em and feed 'em Pistol whip they a** and bleed 'em Stuck 'em and read 'em Find out where they snooze and sleep 'em You pearl tongues need to stop workin' for them cops Rat-heads don't get no props, BEOTCH!