E-40 Block Boi Lyrics

Block Boi Lyrics

[Verse 1: E-40]

Out here is sick, AR-70's and albino pits (Albino
pits)

Patriots and bushmasters, home invasions and licks

I'm in it
to make the most, you in it to flamboast (Boast)

You in it to tricking
off to them hoes, I'm in to make her buy me some clothes (Clothes)

I be
treating my scraper like a Rolls, lemme stop lying, no I don't (Don't)

I
be sideways on two toys, all the rappers call me Unc (Unc)

Feasible,
unheathable, the best thing that ever did it (Did it)

Incredible like E.
Jerome, you pitch it, I'm a hit it (Hit it)

One of my youngsters just got
popped with a thumper (Thumper)

They tryna wash him, they talking football
numbers (Football numbers)

They tryna stop him, it's murk in the Ave (In
the Ave)

Take one of mine, I'm take three of theirs (Three of theirs)

Some of you suckers can't take a lettuce from a cabbage (Cabbage)

A coon
from a plum, kangaroo from a radish (From a raddish)

Look at my life, look
at my guys, look at my fame (Look at my fame)

Look at you guys, look at my
eyes, look at my cane (Look at my cane)



[Hook: Stressmatic x2]

Block, block, block, block boi

Block, b-block, b-block, block, block
boi

... Block, block, block, block boi

Ride with a thing to put
your head on a slab



[Verse 2: Miko]

M wanted this piece,
already (Already)

Squat a 33-year-old Chevy (Old Chevy)

Replace
everything, all in Heat Cherry (Yeah)

So much chrome under the hood,
straight scary

Get my grown man on, Sacramento Valley

On 22's,
playboy vet rallies (Rallies)

Tremendo, to the extreme, where I go

Pimping I'm cleaner than a San Jose car show

... Hotter than Barstow in
August

Chevy Land love me, I'm year one flawless (One flawless)

The
law just, pull up beside me, give me the thumbs up

I turn the beat up
like "That's what up"

Hah, studio tone, yadadamean

Got us mobbed
out, smacking like magazine (Like magazine)

When I wanna roll deep, I
gotta van (Gotta van)

But right now, it's young Meek in the waterbed



[Hook: Stressmatic x2]

Block, block, block, block boi

Block, b-block, b-block, block, block boi

... Block, block, block,
block boi

Ride with a thing to put your head on a slab



[Verse 3: E-40]

Sick of turfs scorchers, smoking hot like a broken
stove

Me and my Filipinos, Tongans and Cholos

... On the soil,
taking precaution

On the roof, in the trees with the Latins, listening
and watching, oooh

... Good grief, it's never been this ugly out here, we
in some heavy beef

They left his body in the streets for twelve hours

Candlelight vigils, sidewalk funerals and flowers, oooh

These
youngsters aint listening, they disrespecting me

Aint no OG's to holler
at, no one to detonate, oooh

... Chemical babies, the parents smoking
rocks

Plus they aint never had a chance to know God (To know God)

In my days, I was raised in the church

Momma did what she could just to
keep us off the turf (Keep us off the turf)

... But it aint no one to
blame (But)

But Noriega and Regan and rock cocaine



[Hook:
Stressmatic x2]

Block, block, block, block boi

Block, b-block,
b-block, block, block boi

... Block, block, block, block boi

Ride
with a thing to put your head on a slab