Look at Me (feat. Lil Wayne, Baby, Juvenile & B.G.)

e-40] beyotch!

Whas happenin, whas happenin?

You got to love this yere nigguh

My boys, my hot boys

Juve and?

Bout to lace this game nigga

Do it the way we do it with e-4-0 charlie hustle

Look, i went from rags to riches, stank hoes to bad bitches

Stealin niggaz cars to tv's in expeditions

Thuggin is how i play it everyday all day

I keep it all the way real i can't see it no other way

I represent mines, hot boys

Slip up my whole click rides, get shot boy

That's how it go; we straight do or die

- we checkmate holdin niggaz

Then come where yo' momma lay down and kick in the do' nigga

(juvenile! juvenile! juvenile!)

Let's get this shit cracklin

My probation officer's gonna know what happened

Stay out the way i'm h-o-t and bout that action

Hooded up with dem slugs and face-maskin, camouflage fashion

I'm all about that luxury (luxury) - i'm also bout

Puttin 50 in yo' head boy if you thinkin bout fuckin me

I'ma be here fo' a minute (what else?) you gotta respect it (uh-huh)

There's a lot of niggaz out here gettin killed to accept it

[e-40] beyotch!

Chorus: e-40 and hot boys (repeat 2x)

Freezer burn platinum on my pinkie (look at me)

Squattin twenty inch twinkies (look at me)

I'm like that! it's like that! what?

I'm like that! it's like that! (look at me)

Charlie hustle on it in the fast lane, drivin slow

With a case of tall cans and some broccoli and a bad-ass hoe

Squattin four times ga-uh gold zenith wides and vogues

Bout snuffin down, right next to me, is the call from the frogs

Uhh - sound system on bloo-blam-blam

Puffin on the doobie almost grubbed, dang it burnt in my lap

Smokin trees with the window up (windows up)

Traffic backed up, middle finger up

I don't associate or surround myself with c.i.'s

Confidential informants snitches affadavits stool pigeons

Marks simple simon sucker sap simps i be kickin it real tough

With the, p.i.'s, hustlers, tycoons

Gangsters killers that might not even look like

With trophies up under they shelf, sky ballers, all kind of benzes

Player type individuals, thugged out times a thousand

Those nigguh-ish niggaroles lieutenants bosses, gazillionaires

New millenium wars high rollers real as hoodlums thugs

House parties strip joints gamblin shacks and hole in the wall clubs

[e-40] beyotch!

Chorus

Man, it's like neighborhood shit with a gangster bitch

So get yo' paper straight nigga and go and buy some shit

Tv's inside when i ride bitch

And i'ma hide these hoes behind limo tints

Fulfill my dreams i'm a rich bitch

And when i hit yo' hood i'ma blind a bitch

Shine, tape sellin got me buyin shit

Dyin? gon' be here past ninety-nine, slick

Rewind, these hoes back to time slick

So nigga slap that bitch, bat that batch

Kick her in the ass and tell that hoe hot boy in this bitch

So nigga fuck that bitch, tell her suck yo' dick

Now, now

Here come the youngest, wayne, you can call me weezy

Flyin up the interstate in a lamborghini

Police right behind me, i'm drivin too fast

I pull over on the grass, they want my autograph

I flipped off ki's, i get my g's

I spit my 3's if you twist my cheese

I'm duckin white sheets and i avoid the feds

If you think that you can stop us - boi go auhead

Chorus

[e-40] beyotch!

E-feezy and the hb's in this motherfucker man (the hot boys)

Juvenile (bosco) you heard about me

The b.g. (uh-huh) the number one stun'na (uh-huh, uh-huh)

Baby thirty-two gold ya heard me?

The bay area, and the u-p-t (uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh)

We connected nigga, you gotta respect it

It's off the heezy

Uhh, uhh (what, beyotch!)