Master P: Ughhh! Ha ha!   E 40: Oooo! Huh? P whats up boy?   MP: Whats up 40 boy?   E 40: Talk to me weepilation.   MP: Dey dont know we been doin dis.   E 40: Last Deezy Last Don.   MP: Bay Area playa nigga.   E 40: This E Feezy Fonzareezy your weepilation up out the Yea Area   all day   erytime. Like dis here. Element of   Surprise. Da Last Don Charlie Hustle. Check it out.   E 40:   Let it be writ and said, done and published   That on the sixth month of June 1998   E-40 Fonzarellie AKA Charlie Hustleezy   And my Third Ward weepilation   From the No Limit Records Headquarters and congregation   Plugged up and did a rumble together without no hesitation and erased   Any Old School classic memories of Northern California   Godzilla ballin and Bay stranglin and hustlin   Morning, night, day in NOrleans   And dang near fallin asleep on the freeway   Bobbin and weavin and ditchin and dodgin po-po, penelope force   Tryin to convince em that me and the dope game wasnt gettin along any   how   We had been went our separate ways   Shit, we been had a divorce   In and out of court, betta yet   Neva was married any how and engaged   Pushed in the game at a young age, trapped in a ghetto cage   Went from hardly any to, uh, plenty of cash   To, uh, high speed chases to, uh, makin a dash   Uh, excuse me sir can I have your autograph   And, uh, when your new album droppin fool   That other shit was cool   (Chorus)   E-40:   Get your money man, get your paper   Get your paper man, get your money   Get your fettie or your scratch, get your skrill   Get your revvies man, get paid   Get your mail man, get your marbles   Get your marbles man, get your mail   Get your grits, get your chettah, get your chips   Get your snaps man, get paid   Mater P:   Ughhh! Ball wit da real, hang wit da Gs   Started from Richmond, California to New Orleans   Game wont change, these niggas cant fade me   Mama still pray for baby   Ghetto got me sick, dope fiends and crack heads   Niggas on da front porch wit tech nines and lemon heads   And all I want be is a soldier   Cause Im tired of runnin from da rollas   Jumped in da rap game and now dey cant hold us   Ghetto millionaires and still blowin doja   Keep my composure when times hectic   Now I own a house in California, Orlando, and Texas   And still run wit the thug niggas   And made tapes for bitches and drug dealas   And push 600 wit a bulletproof   The ghetto Bill Gates   The only president wit a gold tooth   (Chorus)   E-40:   Uh, n-neva let your guards down   Always play defense neva offense   Cause suckas a try to make your kindness for weakness   And damn sho try to shake your hand up unda falsified pretenses   Sequence this   Paint a portrait of these next events   See if you can predict what I was about to say   Within the next couple of sentences   Technically impossible   To hard to call   See right when he thought I was gone throw a slider   I threw him a knuckle ball   Back against the wall, knockin niggas out (knockin niggas out)   Hemmed up in da corner nigga thats what Im about   Master P:   Feel my pain, sometimes I feel trapped   Nigga tired of hangin in the ghetto takin food stamps   Cause this street life got me crazy   But I hustle cause I gotta feed a baby   And only God can take me   And aint no nigga in this hood gone play me   So when I ball Im a ball til I fizall   And when Im gone put my name on the wizall   (Chorus)   [Ad-libs until end]