$999,999 + $1 = A Mealticket Lyrics - E-40

Huh? Want me to speak the real? 

Speak the real man 

Nigga, speak the real 

Speak the real 

Speak the real 

Speak the real 

Speak the real 

It's a quarter after nine on my AM, FM 

Radio Shack, digital motel, six o' clock alarm reads 

"40, get your ass up, time to hit the grind 

You can't afford to pass no money, I know you heard about that" 

What, what? "Task raided Millersville, Ms. Miller had a heart attack" 

Dude, that's some cold shit, ain't it huh? 

I know, she was a good person for certain I know 

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V-Town, California, where I was born, raised and grown 

And since 1979, I been a hustler on the go 

You know the drill, my mission for real, a mealticket 

You feel, we slowly but surely approachin' seven digits 

Figurines, sticky doo hicky and Angel Dust 

Mescaline, niggas know better than fuck with us 

I'm pimped out flossin' in Reno in the casino 

Big bid, fuckin' off feddie, I could've put down on a crib 

I does that, I do, rejuvenate, redeem 

Take a lose, take a lose don't make a scene 

Nigga charge it to the triple beam, fuck the stress 

I let that orange box of baking soda do the rest 

Holler at my neighborhood chef, Raul 

Known for cloning chickens and turning one into two 

That's what he do for a living, that's all he's used to 

Playtex rubber dish washing gloves and residue, biotch 

Photos 

Bullshit ain't nothin' 

You see we gone keep this thuggin' 

And mean muggin', jump until it's a done deal 

You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it bring the real, nothin' but 

What if I bring this back down? 

Which one, which one cap'n? 

You got to be about it or be without it 

Be about it or without it, ay, you know what? 

I smell you on that playboy, look 

We fin to run down a whole tac on these bitch ass, niggaz 

Niggas ain't smellin' this shit, we do this shit 

Last night I slapped a bitch upside her dome with my faulty phone 

That Heifer's tired she tried to slash my tire 

Caught me in the bed with her cousin Tanji 

From the track she use to hold my sack 

I use to dick her down 

Way back in eighty-six she use to look just like a sketch 

But now that bitch got a ass, tits, body and boy, that bitch is bad 

For what it's worth, the pussy smelled like Certs 

Victoria's Secret 

Now folks, just remember, I never said I thought about lickin' pussy 

I said I never thought about eatin' it 

Keepin' it and treatin' it nice 

Fuck that, I'm a hog 

I put it down, I'm from the hood 

Where I live on the outskirts of town on the tuck in the cut 

In some empty apartments, man 

I'm a baller so you know I ain't got shit in my name 

I'm strictly ghetto celebrity, niggaz get buried 

Ready for combat if you plottin' and plannin' 

Oh if you come for me and confiscate my dough 

Let the buzzer be the bail 

But my suggestion is to stay within your envelope 

I'm block to block, swingin' on vines 

Community service, put up stop signs 

Uhh, hold the fuck on 

Did you or did you not tell these niggaz to stay within they envelope? 

Shit, these toddlers is green to the game 

They ain't know nothin' about these tramps 

Six bedroom flats and gettin' dealt 

And held a hand across the mat 

You see we from the Yay, where we control they minds 

And put these hoes on the grind 

Ain't got to but I still touch it 

Went to 7-Eleven, picked up a traders book 

And bought a bucket 

Use to have a perm taller than the Charlotte Hornets 

But I had to cut that bitch off 'cause see your partna had warrant 

That I ain't even handled yet, although I'm havin' cake 

The little homie from the hood, want me to put out his tape 

He kinda tight too, remind me of The Click crew 

'Cause they was spittin' that old high powered 

Godzilla ballin' guru, ass type shit you can relate to 

Wake to, 'scape to when it's sunny 

Ride by, slide by, get at a honey 

I know these streets like I know my dick 

I can tell you who the nigga is that's about to get jacked 

And the nigga that pulled the lick 

I got this bitch on lock 

999, 999 plus a dollar in a safe deposit box 

Marijuana crops still in this roster 

Kilogram, coca leaf and morphine 

What about my niggas in the 415? 

Look what they made 

My niggaz in the city 

They call it made 

Top grade regeneration, uncut 

Designer weed, straight hempilation, what the fuck? 

Sheit, sheit, sheit sheit, sheit sheit, sheit 

999, 999 plus a dollar, plus a dollar man 

Plus a dollar, plus a dollar, man, equals a mealticket bitch 

Biotch, sheit, sheit, fuck it