These Guys - E-40, Jon Jon

Nice guys finish last and stay broke

Bad guys finish first, and push coke

From the bay, where they made the word playa hater

Where they shoot instead of squabbin' like hockey playas (2x)

I still got a mirror in my pocket

The kind of career I’m havin' at this age defies logic

I’m tryna get my one’s up, stack my issue?

Finger on my stapler, or should I say pistol

From the bay, where they made the word playa hater

Where they shoot instead of squabbin like hockey playas

Fat ass wad full a' hundreds, I ain’t got no cents

40 Water, bring me up to speed, pimp

Nice guys finish last and stay broke

Bad guys finish first, and push coke

Ain’t nothing new under the sun

The gift of gab God blessed me with his tongue

In cahoots with the streets and the vocal booth

Solified, documented, partna' I got proof

Mouthpiece, shoulda been a pimp

I’m more than just a rapper, my nigga, I’m an event

California ain’t always sunny

California nose kinda runny

Might go to church on Sunday

And sell dope on Monday

One hand on the scale, the other one on the bible

Askin' the Lord to protect me from my enemies and my rivals

Posted with my Bushmaster chopper assault rifle

For those that ain’t ain’t welcomed Lookin out the window like Malcolm

That’s dramatics music straight from the gravel that underground

If I give you the script, you best not read it upside down

Man I drink too much, I got two dranks

Man I think too much, I got two brains

E-40, Fonzarelli, man I got two names

I got two chains so I tote two thangs

Sick-wid-it click thick like Wu-Tang

I’m the heart of the Bay, the artery and the veins

The club was crickets till E-40 walked in, I get it poppin'

Man, it was so quiet you could hear a mouse pistol cockin'

Man, it’s the block brochure, man, the ave almanac

The hustler’s handbook, the really lived that

Run off wit' my sack and get yo' helmet cracked

Have you gaspin for air, like an asthma attack

I’m from that 80's era when we didn’t wear no mascara

When we played by the rules, and seldom turned on dudes

Anything can be confused, any beef can be fixed

Long as nobody got knocked down, or tried to fuck your bitch

Some of my fellas so grimy that they ain’t never been to a club

Some of my fellas so street that they ain’t never been outta they hood

Hold court on the soil, not in front of a judge

Get down when you mad ain’t no need for holdin' a grudge

My my speakers, my whole system go

40 what kinda amp you got Memphis mojo

Feezy where you been, playa, it’s been a while

Waitin around for this real shit to come back in style