E-40 Where the Party At Lyrics

The Mail Man Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Real Shit
  • 2 Neva Broke
  • 3 Bring the Yellow Tape
  • 4 Practice Lookin' Hard
  • 5 Where the Party At
  • 6 Captain Save a Hoe
  • 7 The Mail Man
  • 8 Playa Hater
  • [Computer voice]
    Where's the party at

    [Verse 1]
    Forget it man, I can't lie
    I'm drunk as a skunk but I'm nothin' funk
    I shoots the game, the gift I spit
    The gift of gab boy, the gift is ripped
    Deal with the skill that makes ya feel it
    Those that don't wanna feel it need to kill it
    Knows that I can giddy go
    When it's time to get on the M-I-C-R-O-P-H-O-N-E
    It's me the hustler 40
    With them raggedy seperaters as if it was funky
    A brother like me don't hang around no suckers that be faulty
    I be puttin' the group up in the boot
    Be puttin' the peas up in the pod
    Left the cookies in the jar, now I'm a rap star
    The rapologist, I pull a 40 out of my ball cap
    Then I bust ya down side of this
    Cause partner ain't never been no punk in this
    I'm so serious brother, I got meals, wheels
    And about seven thousand dollars worth of bills
    Givin' up deals, hills let em' go for a lil' nothin'
    As I showcase my skills for real

    [Hook x2]
    There's a party over here, a party over there
    A party everywhere...put ya hands up
    There's a party over here, a party over there
    A party everywhere

    [Verse 2]
    Pullin' up in the club about eleven
    I plays my feet and hit the beat and kept it revvin'
    I got a lil' doja that I'm fixin' to break down
    Roll em' up in a zag, lick em' stick em' and clown
    I'm fully dig with a ****, my game is on hit
    I got tipped so I tip cause I'm livin' with this
    Game tight with the knack, I'm pullin' in scratch
    They better have a tight grip on they stuff cause I'm bout to snatch
    Your batch if she wants it she'll be mine in the Cutlass
    Puffin' on some of this chronic while I'm gettin' straight laced
    Heard about the drought season, they be lookin' for a reason
    It's like Thanksgiving without the feastin'

    Extra manish how I'm livin' and my name is groupie
    It's Mr. 30-30 givin' up game to all you hoochies
    *****es always splittin' stick the wood but sometimes wouldn't
    Suckin' and grabbin' my little pecker
    Talkin' about sick on my gold better

    I remember when carts was Barbie cut before I was in junior high
    All they wanted to do is kiss and let me play with they vagina
    I got my freshen up, I put on my chucks, also down with pluck
    Th finest watch on the playground, the one with the big *** butt
    40 I love you, I miss you, I need you
    And retrospect to who
    ***** come anew, ***** come anew

    [Hook x2]

    [Verse 3]
    Cause we made like thugs
    Get juiced in the parking lot before we go up in the clubs
    Hugs and kisses, gotta make sure we got our gloves
    Hugs and kisses, E-40 can't be on any more
    Hugs and kisses, straight to the bar no time to waste
    Kickin' em' back while they take the place
    Order me a shot of that liquor to taste
    Thinkin' they about to beat my face
    Oh no, I'm nothin' but a professional
    Oh no, we're nothin' but professionals

    Hoochies all in my face with some of that dope water
    Brothers already purple off some of that soap water
    So I'ma make a toast to the most
    Mobbish lookin' brothers in this by midnight
    Cause brothers gotta get the **** that's really in man
    Batches on our jock, batches on our jock
    Mind teachin' things to these brothers
    Cause that's us, Captain Save a botch
    They wanna be like big boys and sport big loot
    They wanna be like big boys and sport fresh suits
    I got love for D-Boys cause D-Boys got love from me
    I got love for D-Boys cause D-Boys got love from me
    I got love for D-Boys cause D-Boys got love from me
    I got love for D-Boys cause D-Boys got love from me

    [Hook x2]

    [Outro]
    We in this baby boy swervin'
    E-40 in the mob scene
    And I'm still down with The C-L-I-C-K
    Comin' yo way in the 94
    Then 95, it don't stop boy ain't no jive
    Sell the rest of them tapes boy
    Where the deposit at, where mine at
    Oh for real, I'm out

    [Computer voice repeated to fade]
    Where's the party at...Where's the party at
    Where's the party at, where's the party at, where's the party at



    Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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