4 Tha Scrilla Celly Cel (Ft. B-Legit & E-40)
"4 Tha Scrilla" by Celly Cel featuring B-Legit and E-40 is a hip-hop track released in 1996. The song revolves around themes of hustling, the pursuit of money, and street life, emphasizing the importance of financial gain in their lives. The lyrics reflect a gritty realism and camaraderie among friends in the struggle. Musically, it features a laid-back West Coast beat with catchy hooks and sharp verses. The song has had a lasting impact in the Bay Area hip-hop scene, contributing to the genre's distinctive sound and culture. #HipHop
[Verse 1: Celly Cel]
A slave to the hood, have no money in my pants
Rollin wit some heat to make a mutha fucka dance
Had a chance to bubble, had my hustle but I blew that
I walked up in the gun store and ran out wit a new gat
A double four, I don't want my million dolla mission
211, bitches kissin on my chrome wit skrillas in my vision
Can't move wit out the mail, wanna hustle
So I figga I go out there when they posted up an rush a nigga
[Verse 2: E-40]
But I can go anotha way, (notha way)
Hopefully payday (payday)
What if I slipped and say I dislocated my hip and sue the fuck out of Safeway
That's my new get back
All kinds of things of that flavor
The racateerin, racateerin
Copy bootin-legger
Or however, whatever
Long as the weather's clever
Might pull a heist might become a snitch fo the vice
Ain't no tellin, ain't no tellin
That's what Harold told Melvin. Ten millaaaa
Make a nigga bleed fo the skrilla
[Verse 3: B-Legit]
Three drunk niggas wit they gauges loaded (Gauges loaded)
55 kicks in them agents ho (Agents ho)
But I don't wanna beef, cuz the game be fake (Game be fake!)
Strip a mutha fucka fo his cars and money (Fo his cars and money)
Tagged up a 600 SEL (Yeah)
A three way split, me, 40, an Cel (Yeah)
About my mail I was bound to have it (Bound to have it)
See you fuckin wit a mutha fuckin Savage (Biddy-iddy-itch!)
A slave to the hood, have no money in my pants
Rollin wit some heat to make a mutha fucka dance
Had a chance to bubble, had my hustle but I blew that
I walked up in the gun store and ran out wit a new gat
A double four, I don't want my million dolla mission
211, bitches kissin on my chrome wit skrillas in my vision
Can't move wit out the mail, wanna hustle
So I figga I go out there when they posted up an rush a nigga
[Verse 2: E-40]
But I can go anotha way, (notha way)
Hopefully payday (payday)
What if I slipped and say I dislocated my hip and sue the fuck out of Safeway
That's my new get back
All kinds of things of that flavor
The racateerin, racateerin
Copy bootin-legger
Or however, whatever
Long as the weather's clever
Might pull a heist might become a snitch fo the vice
Ain't no tellin, ain't no tellin
That's what Harold told Melvin. Ten millaaaa
Make a nigga bleed fo the skrilla
[Verse 3: B-Legit]
Three drunk niggas wit they gauges loaded (Gauges loaded)
55 kicks in them agents ho (Agents ho)
But I don't wanna beef, cuz the game be fake (Game be fake!)
Strip a mutha fucka fo his cars and money (Fo his cars and money)
Tagged up a 600 SEL (Yeah)
A three way split, me, 40, an Cel (Yeah)
About my mail I was bound to have it (Bound to have it)
See you fuckin wit a mutha fuckin Savage (Biddy-iddy-itch!)
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