(Intro: E-40 and Droop-E)
Daddy
What's up?
What you doin'?
Sittin' up here marinatin', just, you know, trippin' off how this life is, man. Life is a trip
Well, what you writin'?
Just, you know, some ol' crazy, you know, some sh...my feelin's, you know?
Let me hear it
[Verse 1: E-40]
Why was I born in these trifling ass times?
Why is it mandatory that I carry knives?
Don't be too liberal 'cause, see, white folks get jacked too
Doctors, high-class lawyers and even Japs too
You ask me why I speak the real, the way I feel
How come we call bitches hoes and y'all call us niggaroes?
They wanna do me like they did Stax
What is this young black man doing with all that scratch? Huh
I see some timers on the yayo track readin' they mail
Talking about "I got white girl for sale"
But they ain't talking to me 'cause see I'm an oldie and they knows that
I used to be just like them, I tell them "Y'all get that scratch"
Magazine was never nothing like Bel-Air
High-speed shootouts and shit, but I loved it there
"40, where you been, playa? It's been a while."
'Marinatin', accumulating paper, pal'
"Y'all kinda doin' it, huh? You still grindin'?"
'Hell yeah, you know them tapes you keep rewinding'
Money ain't changed me, money changed the way people think about me
When I was broke all I had was my family
You know what kills me doe, them fuckin' numskulls
I hate when blacks be clownin' blacks on all these talk shows
It's bad enough we shootin' up each other tragically
Two days ago they found some brother smothered badly
Nobody's to be trusted in this day and age
Too much jealousy and envy on the wrong page
And fuck the po po's 'cause that 39% tax I pay
Don't get me nathan but a chokehold and some pepper spray
Daddy
What's up?
What you doin'?
Sittin' up here marinatin', just, you know, trippin' off how this life is, man. Life is a trip
Well, what you writin'?
Just, you know, some ol' crazy, you know, some sh...my feelin's, you know?
Let me hear it
[Verse 1: E-40]
Why was I born in these trifling ass times?
Why is it mandatory that I carry knives?
Don't be too liberal 'cause, see, white folks get jacked too
Doctors, high-class lawyers and even Japs too
You ask me why I speak the real, the way I feel
How come we call bitches hoes and y'all call us niggaroes?
They wanna do me like they did Stax
What is this young black man doing with all that scratch? Huh
I see some timers on the yayo track readin' they mail
Talking about "I got white girl for sale"
But they ain't talking to me 'cause see I'm an oldie and they knows that
I used to be just like them, I tell them "Y'all get that scratch"
Magazine was never nothing like Bel-Air
High-speed shootouts and shit, but I loved it there
"40, where you been, playa? It's been a while."
'Marinatin', accumulating paper, pal'
"Y'all kinda doin' it, huh? You still grindin'?"
'Hell yeah, you know them tapes you keep rewinding'
Money ain't changed me, money changed the way people think about me
When I was broke all I had was my family
You know what kills me doe, them fuckin' numskulls
I hate when blacks be clownin' blacks on all these talk shows
It's bad enough we shootin' up each other tragically
Two days ago they found some brother smothered badly
Nobody's to be trusted in this day and age
Too much jealousy and envy on the wrong page
And fuck the po po's 'cause that 39% tax I pay
Don't get me nathan but a chokehold and some pepper spray
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