Текст песни Dusted 'N' Disgusted (E-40) с переводом

I’m really not all that sure about when things is finna mature

So lemme find me a nigga with a grip

And hit his ass quick with one of them licks

What’s the definition of a lick?

Takin' a nigga’s shit (ayy, put that on somethin')

I put that on The Click, The Click

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

Time to do some dirt, uh, I never trusted them bustas

Shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival

Now the town is funkin', it’s called survival

What y’all wanna do? They got us skunked

(Well if, uh, we can just, uh—)

If it was a fifth, we’ll all be drunk

I’m heated, them niggas cheated, played me false

We had a meetin', shit 'posed to been squashed

I noticed one killer on the double dribble and set him up, y’all

She likes the Monie in the Middle, play tetherball

Thick-ass bitch, high yellow city-slicker

Scarecrow creepin' Southern bitches, a.k.a. Posie Pussyfictitious

Nigga been holdin' guts

But shit on hisself and a funky bill

Pullin' out bills, frontin' on material shit

That’s when I get to killin' shit (killin' shit)

And settin' him up and havin him catchin' a couple of slugs

Slu-uh-slu-uh-slugs

Tryna fuck with savage thug

Pistol pop in they ass

See, niggas be gettin' this twisted

It’s that bitch that killed ya

Took all your money, peeled ya

Seven niggas bust in the room with AKs

While a nigga be puttin' on his jimmy

All of a sudden they shoot up your nutsack

Before you can hit the broccoli

See money-a-made that nigga, that nigga didn’t make that money

Left them niggas jacked up, and the bitch she macked him

He’s a busta, punk ass nigga, don’t know the streets

That’s why that nigga naked layin' dead in between some bloody sheets

It’s just a part of the game he didn’t feel

Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh dollar bill

You don’t know that ho, mayne, that bitch can’t be trusted

Dusted and di-motherfuckin'-sgusted

(Some cold hearted shit)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted

What y’all wanna do; what ya’ll wanna do?

(Cold hearted bitches)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

What y’all wanna do? I never trusted them bustas

(Some cold hearted shit)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies jus got dusted

I never trusted them bustas

(And it’s them cold hearted nigga)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

Dusted and disgusted

Let’s let off some 2O3s on the other side of t-uh-town

Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town (other side of town)

And wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin' range

Revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games

Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will prevail

By sellin' the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine trumps

That steal narcotics

When it’s funkin' season, bitches be the reason

Why the smoke be coming up out the chop, with my nigga 'Pac

Dear God, can you forgive me? My future’s lookin' sick

I’m in my rag hittin' switches, I’m suspicious of these bitches

I keep on, calllin', but ain’t nobody pickin' up

I think she’s stallin', this evil bitch is tryin' to set me up

Came all alone—if it’s on, then it’s on

Bust my motherfuckin' chrome, on these jealous niggas' dome

It’s a war zone (war zone) but I’m a man, so with gun in hand

I’m on my way to see this ho', you know the fuckin' plan

Can’t understand, but the things ain’t the same

You could die over these bitches if you slippin' in the game

Niggas gangbang, but bitches gangbang too

Give up that good thang, nigga put that pistol to your brain

If you a smart figure, don’t have no love in your heart, nigga

Any complications, pull the trigger

Dusted and disgusted, bitches can’t be trusted, you know the rules

They underhanded, she planned it, you fuckin' fool

(Richie Rich: These hoes out here tryin' to hold niggas hostage

So a nigga get his muthafuckin' balls involved)

(2Pac: Things happen when you turn these bitches upside down

What’s gonna happen?)

(Richie Rich: Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' will fall out a

bitch pocket)

(Mac Mall: Yeah, mayne, them hoes hella stupid

They fuck with mo' MC’s than Jack the Rapper)

(E-40: What you say, Mall?

Ay, fuck them sheisty ass bootches, nigga)

The California lifestyle that I live

Where the bitches is crooked and niggas just don’t give

A flyin' fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin' on a Taylor

Bay Area player, tryna have shit major

And a bitch won’t save ya

So I ain’t playin' Captain Save-a-Ho

I mob up in ya like a Brougham and then I’m gone

I’m like Sylvester Stallone, every day is like a Cliffhanger

Action packed, I let the mini-mac sting ya

Them hoes jacked that ass

Nigga woulda got smokin' on that hash

Can’t have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash

'Cause he’s a busta, niggas with clusters, slippin' and shit

Better jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass, bitch

Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink (the lo pink)

He let them bootsee bitches gank

Can’t let them bootsee bitches gank that ass

Better hide your cash and check her fast

Pump your brakes, nigga; slow your roll, don’t go too fast

'Cause bulletproof ain’t doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'

Now, niggas comin' up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin' floor

Damn, hollow points to face, Teflon, through the vest

Now r-uh-rest

Pull a plug on a flatline, no puh-ulse, one nigga less

One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West

Fresh in the flesh, them bitches play the game of death

Look over your shoulder, watch your back, don’t even trust it

I’m tryna told ya, end up dusted

(Some cold hearted shit)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

What y’all wanna do; what y’all wanna do?

(Cold hearted bitches)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

What y’all wanna do? I never trusted them bustas

(It's some cold hearted shit)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

I never trusted them bustas

(And it’s them cold hearted nigga)

Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies just got dusted

Dusted and disgusted