🎵 Mo’ Mail // by Spice 1

11 ContributorsMo’ Mail Lyrics [Intro: E-40 & G-Nut] Ah, fuck it Ah, y'all got your nigga E-40 in this motherfucker I'm buzzin', finna step in Kickin' it in the Fac house, motherfucker Ay, G-Nut, Spice, Xtra Large Let 'em have it [Verse 1: Spice 1] 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 I 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 fuck is my problem, nigga? I got a Glock-17, better gobble them So why should I trip, load the clip, put the joint to my lip Get the motherfuckin forty, take a real ass nigga hit I'm sittin' on my gat thinkin' shit is cool Some niggas roll up in an old school I ain't trippin', ay, G, you know this nigga's face I heard the motherfuckin' bass Of a sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump (Pump) Musty dead bodies and a catty bump, trump (Pump, pump) Smellin' up the neighborhood lyin' in the bushes (Uh, bye-bye) Somebody had mo' mail than the rest of the pushers [Interlude: E-40] Yeah, I'm just a hustler Yeah, I'm just a hustler Yeah, I'm just a hustler Spice 1, you know some hustlers on the go, boy Look here, ay, look here They got schemes and scandals out there, right? When that funk is on this, nigga Check fan, the motherfucker gotta be about As grits and gravy in order to maintain Society is a motherfucker, ain't it? Ay, what about them niggas on yo' dick, nigga? Ice, spit some shit about that shit, nigga [Verse 2: Spice 1] Get off my DICK, nigga, get your own motherfuckers Steady mobbin', gaffle the motherfuckers 'cause my jobbin' Shootin' up motherfuckers was my hobby Stop the TEC-11 on 2-11, I did a robbery Shot the mothefucker is grenades that I be lobbin' (Lobbin') Lowin' the motherfuckers like a new pair of Levi's, and Used to think the cops were so motherfuckin' friendly (Uh, uh) Till they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his chin, G (Uh, mothafucka!) My homie's motherfuckin' head like a melon (Uh, yeah) Slavery is abolished except if ya a convicted felon (Fool, uh!) So dear, Mr. Officer of the motherfuckin' law Rodney King don't need a trial, what was seen was what was saw (What was saw) You could take the niggas up out the motherfuckin' ghetto (That's what we know) But you can't take the ghetto up out the motherfuckin' niggas (That's what we know, that's what we know) Can't you hear the voice of the niggas comin' at cha? (Heat) Fuck you, Mr. President, I think I wanna gat ya (I think I wanna gat ya, uh!) I need, more mail than the rest of the pushers Mo' than the rest of the piles [Interlude: E-40] I can't get enough, good, good Good shit, motherfucker, good shit I think I'm a little jet drunk motherfuck Ay, look here, ay, I'm off this liquid Drano, boy (Uh) You understand that don't ya Huh, y'all feel it Ay, ay, look here nigga, ay What I want you to do, boy, drop that other shit [Verse 3: Spice 1] I'll make this gat sing like motherfuckin' Mary J. Blige And reminisce on hearin' 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 (Hollow, went halfway) R-a-rat t-a-tat put a buck in y'all The motherfuckin six-foot Chucky doll (Uh, the mothafuckin' six-foot Chucky doll!) Comin' to play with the trigger of the AK Another real ass nigga from the East Bay (It's real, boy) B-U-L-L-E-T-P-R-O-O-F? For the niggas who could kid yourself by losin' your fuckin' death Blaow! Blaow! (Boom! Boom!) Cap, we do it just like that (Uh, boy!) Quick to put a motherfucker' brains in his lap Smokin' up the blunt, as I reminisce Of bloody body bags, a motherfucker goin' nutty (Uh) Blaow! Blaow! (Blaow) Po' bust another drop, Brougham (Hah) Notify his family, fuck it (fuck it!), send his fingers home 'Cause the shit got major I put the mortuary number up on his pager Bitch, don't fuck with me I know a gang o' niggas that will shoot it up with me (I am so, TIRED) I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers [Outro: E-40 & G-Nut] It's the S, the P, the I-C-E with ya nigga E-40 (The pervin' swervin') Roll in to the curb and die These motherfuckers 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"