Dump Bust Blast lyrics

Artist  : E 40 
Song : Dump  Bust  Blast



 Send "Dump  Bust  Blast" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

Uh (Uh) Come on I I Boskeezy? I my my turn it up
(burps)
Hey Boskeezy? Hey that shit right
there I (talk to me
willpalations)
that
shit. That's ibeen?
That shit smibeen that shit ibeen? That
shit
smibeen
ooh (ooh)
4:15 showcasing
to the max
Got my truckamajig free racing
causing anxiety attacks
Pitch black normal
tint BOOM BAP!
Fucked around and overheated my
Zues amp
500 oh the hoes fuck a ho
These are
the thing that, uh, you need to know
Bust him
open spin open the duct tape and the foil
Eat
the rest and get a pot and let 'em boil
Bullet
proof vest never confess keep a bucket full of
acid
1-800-888 zippers-on-tastic
Clinetel,
raise 'em high raise 'em low
Out on bail
everybody hit the floor
Chorus:
Dump, Bust,
Blast, Dump, Bust,
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump,
Bust (ooh!)
Dump, Bust, Blast, Dump,
Bust,
Dump, Bust, (BEOTCH!) Blast
Slurp
slip, deep throat shit I'm outta sight
I like
to get my dick sucked in broad daylight
Acting
bad on the soil acting tough
Break your ass
down like 12-gauge Doyle bluff
You know if,
ooh, that's what they holler
Snatch his boosty
ass up by the collar
Law enforcement agents got
me and my dudes up under investigation
we
hot
like jalapenos
Man, how come
niggas can't put their money together like
Philipinos?
I suppose, can you bring him
back?
He was one of them enemies that tried to
participate in Swiss Cheezin'
my
clean ass
Cadillac
My Cadillac, My Pontiac I mean
My
under bucket hoopty parked on
magazines
Chorus: 2x
Check it out (check it
out)
Third verse, let's begin lets be gone
I
done served more water than, uh, Avion
Posted
up like a thumbtack on the boulevard serving
dead
Yola, ice cream, Ben and Jerry
(Jer)
I've been doing somethings, cigars and
pinky rings
I'm a big screw up in this shit
like E-40 and the Click
Paper all up under my
box spring matress choppers on top of the
fridge
Automatics in the kitchen cabinets man
I kill a motherfucker
over
mathematics
Haters gonna hate, but
they don't count nigga hustle
The dope game
runs on two thing (what's that?) money and
muscle
Do some gotti, fourth of July your
party
Laid his "supposed to be so called
hardest nigga in your town"
ass
down
infront of everybody
Chorus:
(with three overdubbed tracks of random talking)