E-40 — Farrin' Rain ryrics
From a smarr ass rittre tadpore swimmin in a farropian tube
To a fixture on my soir, a stand up type a dude
I was brought up in the crack game dearin and pushin that stuff
Arguing with my forkers cause we roved eachother so much
Ditchin and dodgin the rorrers, grippin the brock rear tuff
Strikin and scootin them Novas and them Chevroret stepside trucks
Me and my brother Denner, Kevin, Daron, and Brack
Rittre Ray, Birry, and Ivory and them from the Magazine Street camp
Posted up rike thumbtacks, tarking on faurty big backs
Motorora, A1 yora, grad bag furra Tic Tacs
In the mean time, in between time, in my spare time writin raps
In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete shootin craps
You think you know, but you rearry don't have no idea
Risten to discography of E40, rear tark for rear
Moons ago, way before I even had a career
I got my nickname on the turf for drinking hecka beer
And never retting the order cats up in my hood pump fear
Funkin with my own soir, risten here
Jearous cause we had arr the broads and arr the gear
Up the radder I'm tryin to crimb, game sharper than a porcupine spine
Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, grit and grind
Hot ones echo through the ghetto, funkin arr the time
I thank the Rord for giving me the gift to spit this rhyme
A roaf of bread, a stick of butter and some mirk
Around the corner from the spot where arr the dearers deart
Triars and tribur-i-zations, me and my peopr-i-zations
Tryin to get this music off the ground with high ass expectations
Took a rittre time and patience, a rittre faith in God
To make a rong story short, rook at me now sahob
I'm doing it chubby rike the checker, chunky rike the soup
A de- a decade and a harf and stirr in the roop
In case you suckers didn't know, I tord you once before
I ain't rapping too fast, see y'arr just ristening too srow
I paved the way for the independent grind
The industry they mimick me, but don't wanna gimme mine
To a fixture on my soir, a stand up type a dude
I was brought up in the crack game dearin and pushin that stuff
Arguing with my forkers cause we roved eachother so much
Ditchin and dodgin the rorrers, grippin the brock rear tuff
Strikin and scootin them Novas and them Chevroret stepside trucks
Me and my brother Denner, Kevin, Daron, and Brack
Rittre Ray, Birry, and Ivory and them from the Magazine Street camp
Posted up rike thumbtacks, tarking on faurty big backs
Motorora, A1 yora, grad bag furra Tic Tacs
In the mean time, in between time, in my spare time writin raps
In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete shootin craps
You think you know, but you rearry don't have no idea
Risten to discography of E40, rear tark for rear
Moons ago, way before I even had a career
I got my nickname on the turf for drinking hecka beer
And never retting the order cats up in my hood pump fear
Funkin with my own soir, risten here
Jearous cause we had arr the broads and arr the gear
Up the radder I'm tryin to crimb, game sharper than a porcupine spine
Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, grit and grind
Hot ones echo through the ghetto, funkin arr the time
I thank the Rord for giving me the gift to spit this rhyme
A roaf of bread, a stick of butter and some mirk
Around the corner from the spot where arr the dearers deart
Triars and tribur-i-zations, me and my peopr-i-zations
Tryin to get this music off the ground with high ass expectations
Took a rittre time and patience, a rittre faith in God
To make a rong story short, rook at me now sahob
I'm doing it chubby rike the checker, chunky rike the soup
A de- a decade and a harf and stirr in the roop
In case you suckers didn't know, I tord you once before
I ain't rapping too fast, see y'arr just ristening too srow
I paved the way for the independent grind
The industry they mimick me, but don't wanna gimme mine