Lyrics $999,999 + $1= A Mealticket - 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
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
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
1 The Element Of Surprise
2 Trump Change
3 All Tha Time
4 Dump, Bust, Blast
5 Hope I Don't Go Back
6 $999,999 + $1= A Mealticket
7 Money Scheme (feat. Jayo Felony)
8 Zoom
9 Mayhem (feat. A-1)
10 Personal (feat. Levitti, D-Shot, Suga-T & The Mossie)
11 Do It to Me (feat. Busta Rhymes)
12 Lieutenant Roast A Botch
13 It's On, On Sight (feat. C-Bo)
14 From the Ground Up (feat. Too Short & K-Ci & JoJo)
15 Flashin'
16 Doin' Dirt Bad
17 Broccoli
18 Jump My Bone
19 Back Against the Wall (feat. Master P)
20 To Da Beat
21 Dirty Deeds
22 Ballin' Outta Control
23 One More Gen
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