Rick Rock - Turn Up the Music lyrics

[E-40] Turn up the music [Hook 4X: E-40] (*"Turn up the music!" - 3X*) Turn up the music [E-40] Pockets starvin, n***as hurtin, money gone (money gone) It's kinda like tryin to pa** a kidney stone (kidney stone) But I got hustle in my veins in my bones in my skin Motherf**er I'mma win! One foot in the grave (grave) the other one in the pen (pen) One hand on the scale (scale) the other one on my extennndo Heartless, empty the cartridge raw Darkness, get out of Dodge so far Now I don't look for trouble but trouble be always seemin to find me s**ers don't wanna schuffle but s**ers'll rather try to die me Blind me, grimey, sneak up right behind me Creep up on a fixture and give it to a n***a {*BLAOW!*} You might be slick mayne, but I'm much slicker (I'm much slicker) You might be sick mayne, but I'm much sicker (I'm much sicker) That's yo' wife mayne, but she my ripper What'chu want peeyimp? [Hook] [E-40] Watch this though... I was talkin to my mentor, look what I do I said that I tell him I told him you don't know what I've been through You don't know what I can do, you don't see what I can see But I'mma listen to you cause you my motherf**in O.G You can learn from an infant, you can learn from a baby You can learn from a dopefiend that appear to be crazy Family I'm lifted like a toilet seat, high as f** I'm hazy But there's somethin about that hit on me that make a hustler angry With a slap like this that make my next door neighbors wanna hate me Call up police and snitch report a hustler to the federales Man I'm about my chips, I'm concrete and I'm solid (solid) Rubber bands, f** a money clip or wallet (wallet) Send a s**er to hell or either heaven With my AK-47 or my FM-57 .62, my Mac-11 make you sing the blues Blow you out your shoes, your only clue is Headline News [Hook] [E-40] Uhhh! Turn up the music Never pull a pistol if you ain't plannin on usin it (mm-mm) And around around it goes Roamin stop nobody, no skatin in my Oldsssssss-mobile Sittin on top of the hill Smokin on some k**, burnin the rubber off my wheels Lettin her know that I'm for real, showin off my sk** Me and my, redbone, french and black, maybe Creole I'd rather not shoot you, I'd rather fight I just look like this but I'll be the first one to strike! f**ed this broad the other night Had the mm-mmm, her monkey was hella tight Her ex lookin like he wanna take flight Knowin that the n***a softer than a baby wipe He tryin to prove it, I knew it, and that fluid'll do it Before I lose it... turn up the music (beitch!) [Hook]