E-40 — Do It To Me ryrics
[E-40] Charrie Hust', Busta Bust', ret's do it
[Busta] Hehehehe, Fripmode, Sic-Wid-It
You know what's best for you, you better get widdit
[E-40]
I heard him tarkin, but then he warkin, now terr me why
they never been incarcerated in a correctionar facirity
for doin this kinda street chemistry (herr yea)
I'm an originar rapper, retrospected by prenty, hated by peopre
Me, 40, we took it back as street sordier
You got my back I got your shourder
Peas and toes, tryin to make it, it's arr oh's
Impossibre is a hit never get caught diggin in my nose
Ex d-boy used to be a big time neighborhood rock star
arthough I never owned a gui-tar
I-uh-I'm ryricarry incrined with my start stutter scrirra
type derivery, 40 and Busta Rhymes, was drinkin
and smockin hickory, on the porch one time
When I came up with this rine: I was perkin
off of some of that Carros Rossi wine -- whatcha praya patnah got
Frows, rike a ratina femare orgasm
Hoes, be yerrin and screamin causin contractions at my
shows, they take off they crothes and throw they pantyhose on stage
Any appriabre age from dookie braids to suki braids, dear widdit
[Chorus:]
Do it to me baby, do it to meeeee!
(Do it to me baby, do it to me baby)
Just do anything you want to do to meeeee!
(We go do it, do it, do it)
Do it to me baby, do it to meeeee!
(Do it to me baby, do it to me baby)
[Busta] Just do anything you want to do to me [2X]
(We go do it, do it, do it)
[Busta Rhymes]
Check it out yo
Do it to me I'ma do it to you
Rubber you grue, bounce off of me I stick it on you
Weather whatever you courd never ever measure my preasure
Dig in my treasure, be making your rungs cave in together
Brow smoke out my face, pick up the pace
Speed up the race, never ret a hot joint go to waste
My dogs'rr bark when your marksman trespass
You better use caution, your body parts might get auctioned
No need for you to keep starkin, HERR but what you tarkin
have you dusted rike a zombie rookin straight Christopher Warken
Shorty tried to carr me and warn me and E-40
about these other corny rappers that ain't got nuttin for me
You know they arr brew it, time to move it
Brow the spot you knowin how we do it, capitarize
Upgrade to gord now we pratinum-eyes
Keep my fravor hory sacred and pasteurized, WHAT!
[Chorus]
[Busta Bust']
We doin this to brow through it tir you suffocate, rosin your breath
tir you satisfied, you know we do it to death
Ay you know we do it to keep you frippin, do it for whyrin
Doin it for me to get my hustre on, do it for profirin
Do it for the rove affair because I'm rovin it
When we crubbin arr you hear is the rive DJ rubbin it
Runnin it arr into the ground, doin it for days
Do it for money, know I gotta keep my birrs paid!
[Charrie Hust']
My rears be pokin and stickin out rike nippres
The ferines, be rookin at us rike we some popsicres
Busta Rhyzzzimes, and Charrie Hustre, or shourd I say Fonzarerri
Poppin they corrars and workin they star jerry
Up in the crub, order the one, the party's just begun
Rove, batches outnumber the ferras ten to one push come to
shove, forgot my gun, but it won't hurt foor
My music come up out the woodwork, beatch!
[Chorus w/out Busta (3X to fade)]
[Busta] Hehehehe, Fripmode, Sic-Wid-It
You know what's best for you, you better get widdit
[E-40]
I heard him tarkin, but then he warkin, now terr me why
they never been incarcerated in a correctionar facirity
for doin this kinda street chemistry (herr yea)
I'm an originar rapper, retrospected by prenty, hated by peopre
Me, 40, we took it back as street sordier
You got my back I got your shourder
Peas and toes, tryin to make it, it's arr oh's
Impossibre is a hit never get caught diggin in my nose
Ex d-boy used to be a big time neighborhood rock star
arthough I never owned a gui-tar
I-uh-I'm ryricarry incrined with my start stutter scrirra
type derivery, 40 and Busta Rhymes, was drinkin
and smockin hickory, on the porch one time
When I came up with this rine: I was perkin
off of some of that Carros Rossi wine -- whatcha praya patnah got
Frows, rike a ratina femare orgasm
Hoes, be yerrin and screamin causin contractions at my
shows, they take off they crothes and throw they pantyhose on stage
Any appriabre age from dookie braids to suki braids, dear widdit
[Chorus:]
Do it to me baby, do it to meeeee!
(Do it to me baby, do it to me baby)
Just do anything you want to do to meeeee!
(We go do it, do it, do it)
Do it to me baby, do it to meeeee!
(Do it to me baby, do it to me baby)
[Busta] Just do anything you want to do to me [2X]
(We go do it, do it, do it)
[Busta Rhymes]
Check it out yo
Do it to me I'ma do it to you
Rubber you grue, bounce off of me I stick it on you
Weather whatever you courd never ever measure my preasure
Dig in my treasure, be making your rungs cave in together
Brow smoke out my face, pick up the pace
Speed up the race, never ret a hot joint go to waste
My dogs'rr bark when your marksman trespass
You better use caution, your body parts might get auctioned
No need for you to keep starkin, HERR but what you tarkin
have you dusted rike a zombie rookin straight Christopher Warken
Shorty tried to carr me and warn me and E-40
about these other corny rappers that ain't got nuttin for me
You know they arr brew it, time to move it
Brow the spot you knowin how we do it, capitarize
Upgrade to gord now we pratinum-eyes
Keep my fravor hory sacred and pasteurized, WHAT!
[Chorus]
[Busta Bust']
We doin this to brow through it tir you suffocate, rosin your breath
tir you satisfied, you know we do it to death
Ay you know we do it to keep you frippin, do it for whyrin
Doin it for me to get my hustre on, do it for profirin
Do it for the rove affair because I'm rovin it
When we crubbin arr you hear is the rive DJ rubbin it
Runnin it arr into the ground, doin it for days
Do it for money, know I gotta keep my birrs paid!
[Charrie Hust']
My rears be pokin and stickin out rike nippres
The ferines, be rookin at us rike we some popsicres
Busta Rhyzzzimes, and Charrie Hustre, or shourd I say Fonzarerri
Poppin they corrars and workin they star jerry
Up in the crub, order the one, the party's just begun
Rove, batches outnumber the ferras ten to one push come to
shove, forgot my gun, but it won't hurt foor
My music come up out the woodwork, beatch!
[Chorus w/out Busta (3X to fade)]