Mouthpiece Lyrics - E-40

[Chorus 3x] 

I don't need no iron I'm already creased 

I don't need no money I got mouthpiece 

[E-40] 

Thug wit me who got that indo nigga mug wit me 

Stick yo' pistol out the window have a few drinks wit me 

Nigga get fired up 

Out of state dummy license plate faulty ass tags 

Trunk full of out door weed back seat full of garbage bags 

Lookin' fo' that money train lookin' fo' that treasure 

Like to fuck alot mix the business wit the pleasure 

What's up you timer when you gone resign 

Put a soul food restaurant in yo' mamas name and own your own clothing line 

Ain't no tellin' 

that's what Harold told Melvin back in the days of penny loafs 

When Teddy Pendegrass was in the blue notes 

A big lip street nigga was in the makin' a ferocious dangerous dude 

A little microscopic seed maranatin' in the fallopian tube 

Ready to face the world ready to say my speech 

Ready to come out early feet first nigga breeched 

Uno uno dos tres quattro 

Drinkin' malt liquor out the baby bottle 

Five five six six seven eight 

Move from the crest side to the hillside 

Go ahead ask the v.p.d. 

Betcha they tell you about me 

Betcha they tell you they been investigatin' my ass since '83 

Betcha they say dude real, 

betcha they say I don't know how that nigga did it 

but he sittin' on a few mill 

All I gotta say is nemesis 

Bet I know one thing betch you they know 

who shot my mommas house up that night on magazine 

Should I say I wanna take a face nah 

cause if the district attorney get this tape they might build a case 

I'm high as fuck man inhalin' it beatin' on my chest like Tarzan 

Hold it fo' ten 

Five lucky to be alive 

I only got one mo' album to do on jive, an' I'm gone 

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[Chorus 2x] 

I don't need no iron I'm already creased 

I don't need no money Igot mouthpiece 

Let's go half on a forty an' a twamp sack of broccoli 

I got a car deville coupty 

So what if its primer colored so what it's a hooptie 

So what if the lifters tick I knwo I'm forty water 

So what if I gotta get up under the engine an' tap the starter 

In the mourning eatin' cereal 

Strapped with the 223 infrared material 

Who come from nothin' who run the thirteen hundred block 

Who used to top have to walk the streets floodin' wit holes in they socks 

Who really real, how many know the deal 

Who got they church clothed from the good will 

Click shit makes a muthafuckas night 

Niggas listen to it 'cause it's right 

Money don't make me, I make money 

What I look like fuckin' over a broad, playboy I'm a macaroni 

I mean that bitch got miles on her she's a ho 

I mean that bitch can teach the wind how to blow 

She's a pro groupie though 

Zulu jocka binaca 

The hood head knocka' 

Photos 

[Chorus 1x] 

I don't need no iron I'm already creased 

I don't need no money I got mouthpiece 

Sometimes I'm suited up sometimes I don't care 

When I'm grindin' I don't brush my teeth or comb my hair 

When I'm timin' I like to buy drinks 

When I'm timin' it's louie the thirteenth 

Ballers you know how we livin' 

You know how we meet 'em in the parking lot at popeye's chicken 

I can mesmerize a hoe by jowsin 

Can you make a g look like ten thousand 

Where all my ghetto tycoon, beanie caps, and kangols 

Where all my niggas wit them federal beepers on they ankles 

Where all the hood-hoe dick teasers 

Where all my beautiful black intelligent divas 

[Chorus 1x] 

I dont' need no iron I'm already creased 

I don't need no money I got mouthpiece