SPICE 1


Mo' Mail Lyrics

Ah, f*ck it
Ah, y'all got your nigga E-40 in this motherf*cker
I buzz, I put a step in kickin' it in the Fac house, motherf*cker
Ay, G-Nut, Spice, Xtra-Large
Let 'em have it

Went out the house, I think it was a Sunday
Nigga was runnin' with drop top drop, havin' a fun day
Kickin' it with my niggas up on the block
Talkin' shit, drinkin' 'Crooked Eye'

I got the fat head rush from the chocolate Thai
I'm feelin' good, I wanna kick it and hang out
But when the drive-by hit, this is the main route
What the f*ck is my problem nigga?

I got a glock, seventeen better gobble them
So, why should I trip, load the clip, put the joint to my lip
Get the motherf*ckin' forty take a real ass nigga hit

I'm sittin' on my gat thinkin', shit is cool
Some niggaz roll up in an old school
I ain't trippin', ay, you know this nigga's face
I heard the motherf*ckin' bass

Of a sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Musty dead bodies and a catty bump, trump
Smellin' up the neighborhood, lyin' in the bushes
Somebody had mo' mail than the rest of the pushers

Yeah, I'm just a hustler
Yeah, I'm just a hustler
Yeah, I'm just a hustler

Spice 1, you know some hoes gonna go, boy
Look here, ay look, here
They got schemes and scandals out there right?
When that funk is on, this here

Check fan, the motherf*cker gotta be about
As greasy as gravy in order to maintain
So, society is a motherf*cker, ain't it?
Ay, whatta 'bout those niggas on your dick nigga?
Ice spit some shit about that shit, nigga

Get off my dick, nigga, get your own motherf*ckers
Steady mobbin' gaffle the motherf*ckers 'cause my jobbing
Shootin' up motherf*ckers was my hobby
Stop the tech-eleven on two-eleven, I did a robbery

Shot the mothef*cker, is grenades that I'll be livin'
Lowin' the motherf*ckers like a new pair of Levi's and
Used to think the cops were so motherf*ckin' friendly
Till they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his chin

My homies motherf*ckin' head like a melon
Slavery is [Unverified] of convicted felon
So, dear Mr. Officer of the motherf*ckin' law
Rodney Kind don't need a trial, what was seen was what was saw
You could take the niggas up out the motherf*ckin' ghetto
But you can't take the ghetto up out the motherf*ckin' niggas
Can't you hear the voice of the niggas comin' at cha?
f*ck you Mr. President, I think I wanna gat ya

I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the piles

I can't get enough, good, good
Good shit, motherf*cker, good shit
I think, I'm a little jet drunk motherf*ck
Ay, look here, ay, I'm off this Liquorice Rainall, boy
You understand that don't ya? Huh, you feel it
Ay, ay look here nigga, ay
What I want you to do, boy, drop that ill shit

I'll make this gat sing like motherf*ckin' Mary J. Blige
And reminisce on havin' a nigga's last breath when he slowly die
Stang his ass in the chest with the hollow
Capped him in his thr-thr-throat, so he can't swallow

R-a-rat, t-a-tat put a buck in y'all
The motherf*ckin' six-foot chucky dog
Comin' to play with the trigger of the AK
Another real ass nigga from the East Bay
[Unverified]

For the niggas who kid yourself by losin' your f*ckin' death
Bloaw, bloaw, cap, we do it just like that
Quick to put a motherf*cker brains in his lap
Smokin' up a blunt as I reminisce

Of bloody body bags a motherf*cker going nutty
Bloaw, boaw, Po' bust a knowledge route
Brown, notify his family, f*ck it, send his fingers home
'Cause the shit get major, put the [Unverified]
Number upon his pager

Bitch, don't f*ck with me
I know a gang of niggas that will shoot it up with me
I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers

It's the S P I C E with ya, nigga, E-40
(Erick Sermon)
Roll in to the curb and die
These motherf*ckers don't understand this shit, boy

This shit is so damn real, man
Ay, nineteen ninety-tre-four-five
Ay, I got one of them

Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers

Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers

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Songwriter(s): john zunino, ronald bryant
Record Label(s): 2001 Thugworld Ent
Official lyrics by

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