Cute Without The 'E' [Cut From The Team] [Live At Bamboozle, East Rutherford, NJ / 2009]

Dope man
Dope man, coke man

I play the porsche, 918
I mean the spider you do not know what I
mean
I got a driver for my drop top limousine
Go ask yo bitch I bet she know 'bout Mr. G
Yeah he like to talk, she like to talk
So when he drop her off, they have a heart to

heart
Cause he got all the answers
And I got all the verses
My Benz don't got no ceilings
But the windows came with curtains
So me and G swerving, me and G swerve
I keep the double R, me and Steve Kerr
Popping these percs like I'm on injury reserve

And when the pockets full of lint, we want

that lint to be fur
Amen, amen
No baking soda, my nigga, we play it raw
We put some holes in them niggas, we playin'
golf

Want you to know it's me nigga, my mask off
Cut out his tongue put that bitch in a glass jar

Then drop it off to your kid's classroom
Dirt bags, we belong in a vacuum
A pad room, I fuck in my bathroom
Long hallways my room is the last room
Long hard days, my schedule don't have room
You home all day, you stuck on your Mac

book
I'm gone all day I'm chasing that checkbook
I'm stoned all day, I'm stoned all day, I'm on

D'usse
Back in the day we was on section eight
Now we got our own section, motherfucker
like "hey"
All y'all niggas know what time it is like Flav
Public Enemy Number One like Flav
Fifteen with a mouth full of golds like Flav
Fifteen with a house full of hoes like Hef

Gave G the day off cause the car park itself
Shots take off like a stealth and they landed
in your scalp
Letting human heads replace the Grammies

on the shelf

Put a bitch head right below the belt 'til she
belch
And she do not get a dollar, zero, zilch

Cup muddy, muddy, muddy, muddy, muddy
Tunechi pass the blunt, I'm gon' need time to

study
They don't know who got the gun but they
know who got the money
We don't wanna know what's up, we wanna
know who got the money
What these niggas wanna do? What these
bitches want from me?
Bitches claiming I'm a dog, but these bitches
want puppies
These bitches bring luggage, my bitches bring
others
My bitches bring rubbers, your bitches burn
rubbers
Your bitches burn supper
I'm still major and I made y'all niggas
You getting bodied by a skater nigga
I'm not the typa nigga that be skyping bitches
Shout out to all my bitches one nighting
niggas
Make sure you hit 'em with that Slut Walk
Then text that man to fuck off
See I pour up another one, another one
Got the cream started tasting like bubble gum
Woah, straight swerving on these niggas
From condos to islands to Bourbon on them
niggas
Them other niggas just wasn't deserving of
me niggas
So I'm swerving on them niggas
No more Family Matters, no more Urkel on
them niggas
I'm feeling like a born again virgin on them
niggas
I'm running to the bank, quick as Herchel on
you niggas
What's in your wallet? I done went
commercial on them niggas
On purpose on them niggas
I got the all black hoodie, all black gat to
match
Yeah, put it to your head and blat
When we see you boy shots, we coming back
to back
Long hair, don't care, nigga, Cactus Jack
No ceilings